Star Wars: Balancing the Force
by jlluh
Summary: Life is a mystery for Jedi Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi. His connection to the Force has strengthened, he's become paranoid about the prospect of war, and there's a voice in his head that's undoubtedly his but seems older.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Force Giggles**

Old Ben Kenobi sat in his small home on Tatooine, deep in meditation.

In his mind, Old Ben saw a boy sitting on a mat in a small room in the old Jedi Temple, struggling to meditate.

A vision, not of the future, but of his own past; the boy trying to meditate was a young Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The Jedi did not brood upon the past, but they did reflect upon it. Often, it wasn't till you had grown that you could understand your past, and you could not truly understand the present without understanding the past.

The meditation technique he was using was a new version of something very old, and he had discovered it along with Qui-Gon spirit. The goal was to not simply remember, but to truly observe the past, as if through a window. Sitting in his room failing to meditate had hardly been an uncommon experience for Old Ben Kenobi as a youth, but he did not question why the Force showed him this, and simply observed it.

The technique would, if it worked, be a great asset to gathering information, though it would surely have limitations.

The Force swirled around him with a feeling he was not used to from it-almost as if the force itself were curious.

The boy in his vision drew a startled breath and marveled at the feeling of the Force around himself.

A Force, Old Ben knew in a flash of nonsensical insight, that was roiling with curiosity. Just as the Force around him was.

A flash of recognition, on both sides of the window.

A rush of glee and spontaneity.

And where Old Ben had meditated, only clothing and a lightsaber remained.

#

#

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Initiate, recently turned 11 years old, wondered what that had been about.

He didn't like meditating, but he wanted to be a Jedi Knight and all their teachers said meditation was important, so he'd been attempting it again, trying to sense the Force.

It had been going as poorly as normal when the Force had... perked up.

Disturbances in the Force happened, such that even untrained sensitives could feel them, but usually they were because of something bad that had happened. This hadn't felt like that at all, though what exactly it had felt like he couldn't say. The Force was vague and distant to him, even when he did feel it.

He supposed the interruption was as good of an excuse as any to stop trying to meditate.

Except, the thought came, in a voice that was definitely his, but seemed somehow older, more mature, that he'd just felt the Force, and there was no better time to meditate than with the feeling so fresh.

He closed his eyes, and calm swept over him.

Impatience vanished. Why would he be impatient when there was no place he'd rather be than where he was?

#

#

Grandmaster Yoda walked through the halls of the Jedi Temple, every sense alert.

A disturbance in the force had drawn him from his meditation. It had been powerful, but localized, confined, and, he suspected, quite close, likely taking place within the Temple itself.

That was not so very strange, and would not have drawn him from his meditation by itself, but the feeling of the disturbance had been unusual to say the least.

Throughout his long life, Yoda had often heard the soft, gentle laughter of the Force. But he had never before heard it _giggle_.

Yoda wandered through the Hall of Initiates and chose the room from which the strongest Force presence came.

Young Obi-Wan Kenobi sat cross-legged on the floor, lost in a commendably deep Force meditation for one his age. He noticed Yoda's entrance, but to Yoda's surprise and pleasure, rather than breaking meditation, reached out with the Force. Clumsy, weak, but impressive.

Yoda sat near Young Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan, sensing Yoda's intentions, continued his meditation.

For a bit. The questions bubble up through the Obi-Wan's minds despite his efforts, and his connection broke.

Yoda said, "Felt the Force you have."

Obi-Wan said, "Yes, Master Yoda."

"Felt a disturbance, did you?"

The boy nodded. "I did not understand, but I thought, with the feeling so fresh, I could meditate well. I did. That's the best I've ever meditated."

"Wise to take advantage, you were. How felt it?"

"It seemed happy, almost. I'm not sure." He was becoming flustered at being questioned by Grandmaster Yoda within his own quarters. As if he'd been given an important test while in the bath. "I don't sense the Force very well yet," he admitted.

"Much I felt from the Force. Unusual, it was. Surprise, joy, mischief. As if the Force were a child at play. Whence it came, know you?"

Obi-Wan stared, puzzled by the thought that Yoda was asking him not as a test, but because he thought Obi-Wan might know. "I have no idea."

"Distant, did it seem?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It was all around me. Isn't the Force always all around us?"

"Correct in that you are." Obi-Wan struggled not to wriggle under Yoda's slow, unblinking gaze. "Meditate upon this, I will." The Grandmaster of the Jedi stood and left the initiate's room.

Obi-Wan needed several minutes to gather himself, aided by the fact that he had to get to his lightsaber class, which was his favorite class. Because it was fun, and because he was one of the better students, but mostly because when he practiced with his lightsaber he felt as if he were already a Jedi.

He arrived early in the training room, ignited his training blade, and was struck by the idea that he ought to run through all the basic forms.

He began with the first form, Shii-Cho, running through the wide slashes, letting the gyroscopic effects of his blade guide him, his focus contracting.

The basic moves of the second form, small, precise, typically one-handed.

 _Too much weight on_ _your_ _back foot._

He adjusted, found balance, lost it, found it again, lost it again.

 _Straighten your core. Your poor posture steals your balance._

He saw in his mind's eye a perfect vision of how he ought to move and copied it as best he could.

The third form, Soresu. Minimal, defensive, keeping the blade vertical and near his body. He had always disliked it, found it boring in drills, ineffectual in spars, but now it felt smooth and natural.

 _Soresu is still, not static. On your toes._

He corrected his flat-footedness, and moved through the fourth form, Ataru, what he normally used. The most popular form among Initiates, critical for battlefield movement. It was fast, acrobatic, aggressive, flamboyant even,

 _But not needlessly so. Spin less. The marginal increase to power is seldom worth the windup._

Form 5. Form three made aggressive, essentially.

 _You're overextending._

Form 6, a mixed bag of other forms, typically practiced by near-non-combatants who'd never mastered a single form. He nearly skipped it, but a voice reminded him it was the form of one who'd mastered all forms.

Form 7, Vaapad. Much like Form 5 in its basic moves, but with more acrobatics and more thrusts, and more evasive footwork.

Obi-Wan, stopped, sweating.

 _Form Three,_ something in him said.

Ataru was his best now, but most masters of Ataru were on the small side. It was good for now, since he was small, and the temple drilled younglings on it harder than on any other, knowing the importance of mobility, but he was a human male. He wouldn't stay small.

Forms 1 and 2 were practically antiquated, Form 7 worked well only in concert with dangerous force techniques no one would teach an initiate, and Form 6 wasn't really its own form, no matter what their Instructors said. And while form 5 was nice, he already had Ataru.

Which left Form 3.

It felt right. He'd focus on Forms 3 and 4. Steadfast defense and mobile attack. Combine them, and he'd be like a snapping turtle, sticking his head out to do damage, then drawing back into his shell until the next opportunity came.

#  
#

Master Blith watched Obi-Wan Kenobi with interest.

The initiate had clearly made a decision to focus more on Soresu than priorly, and was having more success with it than she'd expect of someone who'd previously ignored it in favor of Ataru.

In a move that was pure Ataru, Obi-Wan flipped over a practice droid, struck it with his practice blade while in the air, adjusting his course to dodge one of the training blaster bolts, and as he landed, withdrew into the security of Soresu.

Still slow and clumsy, but it was the best Blith had seen Kenobi do, and he'd already been among the best of agemates. Better posture, better form, better balance, better focus, better decisions, and there was no doubt as to why. All younglings reached out to the Force when practicing, but today, Kenobi was succeeding with more of his attempts.

A closer connection to the Force assisted with every task. Perhaps the boy had overcome a mental block.

#

#

It was two weeks since the Force had Giggled, and Yoda was still keeping an eye on Obi-Wan Kenobi. The boy had improved in all his classes, but especially in Force Techniques, Force Theory, and Lightsaber Usage. His progress had been rapid in Ataru and Soresu, and Master Blith wished to move Kenobi into the advanced class, where he would be the youngest.

The boy's progression was remarkable but hardly unprecedented. Progress often came in fits and starts, and Yoda would've felt only pleasure if not for the strange disturbance that had been centered on or near the boy.

But it had not been of the dark side, so Yoda was not overly concerned. He felt rather is if someone had slipped a credit chip in his pocket on the sly. Strange though that might be, he would spend it when the time came.

:::

My canon is the movies and, to a lesser extent, the Jedi Apprentice series. I've read a few of the clone wars books and am vaguely aware of the cartoon series.

In this fic, Jedi philosophy is what I make of it, and high midichlorian counts are a result of a strong connection the Force, not the cause of it. I'll do what I like. What I like is for Obi-Wan to be dope.


	2. Chapter 2: Siri Tachi

**Chapter 2: Siri Tachi**

Obi-Wan Kenobi frowned at the smallish blonde girl on the other side of the cantina. He'd noticed her a lot lately.

He knew he was too the age where he might start having inexplicable urges to look at girls, but she looked about 9 years old and the class they'd taken had made clear it wasn't supposed to work like that.

He poked Bant (who seemed to know everyone), pointed at the girl, and said, "Who's that? The blonde one?"

Bant peered over, "That's Siri Tachi, two years below us. Why?"

"I feel like I've met her before."

Bant blinked. "I imagine you've met everyone here before, if only in passing."

"That's not what I mean." What did he mean? Over the last few weeks deja vu had become a way of life. "Is she very good with lightsabers?"

Garen rolled his eyes. "You're so weird lately, Obi-Wan. Why would Bant know that?"

Bant said, "I know because I've heard her lectured on it. She's the best of her agemates with a lightsaber, and lets her agemates know it."

"Like Bruck?"

"Except she's actually the best, and she's not mean about it, she's just loud and proud and lacking in tact."

Obi-Wan closed her eyes and reached out to the Force, focusing on Siri Tachi. He felt passive approval from the Force, but it wasn't as if the Force was prompting him to approach her. It was just him, being weird again.

Garen said, "Honestly, Obi-Wan, what's going on with you? You can talk to me."

"I just feel different. I don't know why."

Bant said, "Whatever it is, it's working for you, so I'd say to go with it."

Obi-Wan nodded, finished his food, gathered his courage (approaching people he had no reason to approach had never felt natural to him) and walked across the cantina to where the younger Initiates sat.

He stood next to her and she looked up at him, "Siri Tachi?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm looking for a practice partner, and I hear you're good with a lightsaber."

"I know who you are. You're the champion of the group two years above us."

"I wouldn't say champion." It was true he'd lately been the best at all forms of lightsaber combat. "It's not as if we held a tournament."

"Why not? My group did."

"I can't believe the Instructors would set up a tournament."

" _They_ didn't. But it's not my fault if you and your agemates lack the gumption and moral fiber to run your own tournament. But if you're from the two years up, why do you want to spar with me? Just kick me around to prove you're better than everyone younger than you?"

"If your lightsaber style is as unconventional as your speaking style, I'm the one who'll get kicked around. But no. I'm focusing a lot on Soresu, so I want to spar without attacking. I just want to defend and counter, but I don't know if any of my agemates would want to do that regularly." Plus, Bant and Garen weren't thrilled about endless lightsaber practice.

"Ah. So you want a subservient practice partner who'll do what you say. Excellent idea, I'll remember it for when I'm older. I accept." She stuck out a hand, and Obi-Wan shook it. "Do you have an open period after lunch? I have an open period after lunch, the west training room. Right. Scoot, scram, I'm eating."

Obi-Wan walked back to his table and sat between Bant and Garen.

"Well?"

"She's insane. Very. I didn't know people could act like that. She's 9, and her vocabulary is better than mine. She suggested we and our instructors 'lack the gumption and moral fiber' to run a tournament to see who's best. I'm not sure what that means."

Garen said, "You're smiling like you just got chosen as Master Yoda's Padawan."

"It was a fun insane. I'm meeting her after lunch for lightsaber practice."

#

#

They activated their practice lightsabers, Obi-Wan took his stance, and Siri launched herself at him.

He moved his blade to parry the thrust, and Siri stopped on a dime, retracted her thrust, and thrust again.

The goal was to stick the enemy as the parry flew by, but Obi-Wan's movement had been far too minimal for that to work. He easily deflected the second strike.

She battered repetitively and pointlessly at his blade, and Obi-Wan wondered why he'd thought it would be a good idea to spar someone two years younger.

Then she moved her lightsaber in a spiral that nearly passed his guard and kicked in him in the shin hard enough to scrape skin and make him fall back a step.

Siri said, "That would've been the knee if I didn't like you, so pay attention."

Siri resumed her attack, and while she wasn't as good as anyone he was used to practicing too, she was better than he recalled being at the same age, and quite creative.

Obi-Wan reached out to the Force. Hearing its prompting was one matter. Letting it guide his movements was much harder. For about six seconds, he managed, and was perfect and immovable. Then he lost his connection to the Force, his body jerked, and he had to leap back to avoid being burned by her strike.

That pattern repeated several times before Siri stopped, closed her eyes, and meditated while standing for about a minute.

Then she attacked, maintaining her connection for a bare three or four blows before withdrawing.

Obi-Wan said, "I couldn't call the Force on command at all when I was your age."

Siri poked her chest with her thumb. "That's why they call me a prodigy."

"Right," said Obi-Wan.

"If you're done talking let's get fighting. I've got approximately 42 minutes and 33 seconds before I have to shower."

#

#

Trapped in the unimagined ether between two timelines, the ghost of Old Ben Kenobi fell over laughing.

Old Ben had hardly known Siri until she was nearly 12, and he'd always assumed she'd worked up to her particular brand of crazy, but now it seemed she'd worked down to it. She'd evidently been even worse as a 9-year-old, and he imagined that her first spoken word had been 'no!' and her second spoken word had been a sarcastic 'really?' accompanied by a roll of her eyes.

Observing her form a friendship with his young alternate self was a welcome distraction from observing the Timeline he'd left, which he'd dubbed the Dark Timeline.

It was frozen, stopped, reminding him less of a holovid paused then a prisoner dipped in carbonite. He saw not just its frozen present, but its frozen past, continuing back to the point of divergence from whence it and the new timeline sprang-the moment that much of Old Ben had flowed into his younger self.

His convictions and thought processes had been, so far as he could tell, copied into his younger self's mind, where they were continuing to merge with his younger self in not entirely predictable ways. More critically, much of his connection to the Force had been transferred into young Obi-Wan, leaving him with only the minimal amount necessary to sustain his Force ghost.

Obi-Wan had become more talented as a result, but still, in Old Ben's opinion, lagged behind Anakin in talent, at least in terms of sheer power. Yet one more testament to how ridiculously talented Anakin had been.

Old Ben worried that he was responsible for the involuntary stasis of an entire galaxy, but he reassured himself that the Force had done it, not him, and the Force would presumably fix it. He gave his attention to his apparent mission of ensuring that the New Timeline was better.

As yet, he had been unable to communicate with anyone. The most he'd achieved was Yoda noticing a distant eddy in the Force. His best hope was his special connection to young Obi-Wan. Young Obi-Wan, unfortunately, felt him only as promptings of the Force, and Old Ben felt as if he were impersonating the Force every time he urged Obi-Wan to do something.

Old Ben hoped that he would eventually be able to give Obi-Wan visions. Jedi Prodigy Obi-Wan Kenobi telling Yoda that whenever he entered a deep force trance he saw Senator Palpatine slaughtering Jedi with a red lightsaber would go a very long toward saving the galaxy.

But visions were likely years away.

For now, the most prominent differences were in Obi-Wan himself. The boy was gaining a reputation as a prodigy, both in terms of his lightsaber skills and his connection to the Force, and his friends were improving through friendly competition. Even more important, Old Ben had helped the boy work through anger, fear and egotism that had taken him years to overcome the first time around.

Old Ben had no trouble thinking of a number of moments where a better Obi-Wan Kenobi could have altered the fate of the galaxy.

He just hoped the boy got a good Master.

:::

I've seen Ventress in various Fanfics and am interested in including her. What book do I read to find out about her origins? How much younger is she than Obi-Wan?


	3. Chapter 3: Saber Audition

**Ch 3: Saber Audition**

As they were practicing their forms in the large battle hall, awaiting the start of class, Siri said, "There's another Master, Oafy One."

Obi-Wan glanced over. Master Yoda, and a tall human male with long hair and a thick brown beard with strands of gray. Obi-Wan looked away and returned to his warm up.

"This one's for you," said Siri.

"You've said about the last three."

"I'm bound to be right some time."  
"He might be here for you. In which case, you should be focusing on your warm up, not speculating about Jedi Masters."

Siri rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, I can walk and chew gum at the same time."

Obi-Wan sighed, reigning in a lecture about paying attention to the present moment, knowing she was just trying to get a rise out of him and would snap to the moment exercises began.

He'd turned 12 just over a month ago and was thinking more and more about gaining a master. Several Masters and Knights had come, watched them work out, spoken to Obi-Wan, and then chosen another Initiate as Padawan. He assured himself that he still had plenty of time, that it was important to find the right match, and that it was okay if he wasn't chosen. Whether he was a Jedi Knight or in the service corps, he should focus on living his life well just the same.

Sometimes, he believed that, but mostly he wanted to be a Jedi, and he kept close watch on the calendar, the countdown to his 13th birthday, when he would be sent to the Jedi Service Corps if he was not first selected as a Padawan.

Siri helped. He'd been happy when Siri had been promoted to the Advanced Lightsaber class, at an even younger age than he'd been. The others had found her conversation a bit of a trial, and she'd ended up sticking tightly to Obi-Wan, who didn't mind. The steady stream of humorous barbs comforted him.

Siri said, "You don't suppose he really is here for me? Do you think I need to, you know, become a little less myself to be chosen?"

"Obviously, you should grow as a person, but I'd be sad if you became a different one." He'd also be sad if she wasn't chosen as a Padawan. "But as much as I enjoy your conversational style, It'd be good if you had another one. For different situations.

Instructor Kali called them to order and explained the first task-another group fight against practice droids. The 12 Initiates turned their lightsabers to low power, so wild strikes wouldn't kill anyone, and 36 droids stomped into the hall.

The droids broke into two groups, most along one wall in a long line, 8 in a small square across from that line.

Instructor Kali directed them to their starting spot (a circle in the middle of the hall.) Obi-Wan gathered the Force to himself, sensing the droids, sensing his fellow Initiates, and... sensing that the unknown Jedi observer was not happy to be watching the Initiates. If felt as if Yoda had dragged him over.

Obi-Wan put that aside and focused on the task. Speaking wasn't allowed, so with nods, hand signals, eye contact and impulses of the Force, the Initiates came to an agreement.

Instructor Kali called start, and the droids fired as the Initiates exploded into movement.

They used their Force granted mobility to leap through the air and come down near the edge on the long line that was main group of droids, the Initiates forming a wedge, some protecting against the fire-team across the hall, Obi-Wan spearheading the attack on the long line, sweeping his lightsaber into a droid.

With the lightsaber at low power, the droid wasn't damaged, but registered the hit and fell.

The line of droids against the wall swung out, clustering as it did so, stealing the fire-team's angle. Obi-Wan called out rotations, noticing that his group felt short of numbers, but not thinking about it.

Obi-Wan stepped into the fray, Siri at his side. He deflected a bolt that would've hit the Initiate next to him, turned sideways to let another bolt fly into the wall, and struck another droid.

Siri took out another and swung at a third, Obi-Wan deflecting back a bolt that would've struck her. They slid in, getting their backs to the wall, and Obi-Wan registered that the fire-team had joined the main group, which was massed entirely in front of them.

Obi-Wan and Siri gathered the Force and leapt over the crowd of droids, landing on the opposite side, and taking the droids from the back, their broad strikes curtailed by the fact that they couldn't actually cut through the droids.

But in moments, all the droids were down and Instructor Kali was announcing the exercise's end. The droids stood back up and marched to their holding room, where they'd be checked over for damage.

"Three down," said Instructor Kali, gesturing to the three Initiates who stood to the side. Janie, who Obi-Wan had seen miss a block, and Bruck and Aalto, who he couldn't recall seeing in the fight at all.

Bruck said, "Obi-Wan mis-explained the plan. We thought we and two others were attacking the fire-team while the rest turtled to protect from fire from the main group."  
Siri said, "Really? Everyone else understood just fine."

Bruck said, "I'm less used than you to finding meaning in Kenobi's every glance, Tachi."

Instructor Kali said, "That's enough. More than enough. Bruck, Aalto, it's your responsibility to understand what the rest are up to. However, the rest of you." He looked longest at Obi-Wan. "It's your responsibility to ensure that everyone understands the plan, and to notice and adjust if the plan is not carried out properly. Individual excellence is valuable, but teamwork is vital."

As Instructor Kali critiqued the fight, Obi-Wan came to understand that Bruck and Aalto, had leapt at the fire-team, which wasn't a bad strategy except they needed more than two, and they needed Initiates defending their backs. Both had been struck by practice bolts and called out of the fight by Instructor Kali.

They had, at least, distracted the droids from the main group and reduced the fire-team from 8 to 5.

Obi-Wan would've rather had two more Initiates.

Instructor Kali said, "You will break into groups of four and fight two on two. Not two separate fights of one on one, but two on two."

Instructor Kali divided them into three groups of 4, breaking up Obi-Wan and Siri, which was happening more and more lately.

Obi-Wan was paired with Janie Crauser against Frederick and Boller. Obi-Wan indicated he'd take Frederick.

The fight started, and Obi-Wan lunged toward Frederick, and quickly got the boy turning,

putting him back to back with Boller. He advanced into Frederick's space, blade turning aside Frederick's strikes. The boy stepped back and stumbled into Boller.

Both Initiates kept their balance, but Boller had to jump away to do so, creating a small moment of two on one.

Janie struck Frederick in the back with her lightsaber. He bowed out, and Janie and Obi-Wan went at Boller from quarters, ending it in a moment.

They waited, and after a minute, Instructor Kali called a halt despite that fact that Bruck's group was still going.

In Obi-Wan's opinion, it was two separate one on ones.

"Bruck, Aalto, Amy. The three of you versus Obi-Wan and Siri. The rest of you, watch."

Siri and Obi-Wan looked at each other in surprise, but stepped inside the center ring. Siri was excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and Obi-Wan was plotting. Bruck and Aalto would attack from the front while Amy tried to get behind them. If they let that happen, it would be over quickly.

They bowed, Instructor Kali called start, and their three opponents rushed in.

Obi-Wan and Siri danced to the side, but the others closed, three lightsabers to two, Siri and Obi-Wan parrying for each other nearly as often as themselves, constantly moving to keep Amy from getting behind them, Obi-Wan positioning himself so he was in the one in danger of being pincered.

Obi-Wan thought he could do it. Step up, challenge Bruck and Amy at once, and keep them both occupied for long enough for Siri to defeat Aalto.

But individual brilliance wasn't the point of the exercise.

When they'd made two revolutions around the ring, Siri flipped over Obi-Wan and Amy both, aiming to create a moment where Amy would be between her and Obi-Wan.

Amy had stepped back before Siri had landed. But Bruck and Aalto had reacted slowly, and Bruck had to go around Aalto to get to Obi-Wan or Siri, creating a brief moment of two on two.

Aalto moved closer to Amy to give Bruck a shorter path, and Obi-Wan parried Aalto's blade into Amy's. Amy stepped back to dodge Siri's thrust, Obi-Wan blocked Aalto's blade high, and Siri side-kicked Aalto in the stomach, bumping him into Bruck.

Creating a moment of two lightsabers against one.

Obi-Wan sealed Amy's blade while Siri poked her in chest.

The girl hissed at the pain but jumped out of the ring with a resigned sigh.

Siri and Obi-Wan touched each other with the Force and knew what was next.

Obi-Wan engaged Bruck, Siri, Aalto.

Obi-Wan could've ended it, but he chose to crouch deep into defense and wait for Siri.

She jumped over Aalto, the move poorly timed, poorly conceived. Aalto would be on her before while she was still on the air.

Obi-Wan stuck out his right arm. Siri caught it, they both tugged, and Siri whipped through the air, tracing a semi-circle. Aalto's lunge took him through empty space, and Obi-Wan and Siri had a moment of two on one against Bruck.

Siri was casually smacked Bruck's exposed back.

"Chun, you're out," shouted Instructor Kali when Bruck took another swing.

Bruck stalked out of the circle as Aalto furiously attacked Siri, hoping to overwhelm her before Obi-Wan could help.

Siri kicked him in the shin and tagged him on the arm as he lost his balance. Obi-Wan finished it with a slash to Aalto's opposite side.

Siri punched Obi-Wan's arm to celebrate their victory, and they bowed to those they'd defeated.

The losers bowed back, Aalto and Bruck grimacing.

Instructor Kali said, "Siri and Obi-Wan's individuals skills were important, but they won because of superior teamwork. Teamwork is more than basic tactics. It's mutually reading and responding to each others' intentions."

Instructor Kali set them to doing blaster deflection drills, and went over to speak with Yoda and the unknown Jedi.

Obi-Wan forced his attention onto the exercise.

When the class ended, the unknown Jedi followed Obi-Wan to his Force Healing class, which was mainly attended by Padawans. Obi-Wan had been entered into it after surpassing the highest level general Force Techniques class for Initiates.

When it ended, Obi-Wan exited with Bant, his only age-mate in the class, and the older Jedi approached.

Bant smiled and waved goodbye to Obi-Wan, who bowed to the Jedi and waited to be addressed.

The Jedi said, "Are you hungry?"

Obi-Wan had had lunch with a couple prospective masters, and nodded, ready to head for the cantina.

"Then come." Obi-Wan followed, and the Jedi turned left, not right, and without saying a word, led Obi-Wan out of the Jedi Temple.

:::

Who is this mystery Jedi? I've thought about different options, about Count Dooku, Mace Windu or an OC. I've thought about Obi-Wan not being chosen at all. But in the end, I'm afraid, I was conventional.

Disambiguation: In this fic, Master has two meanings. It's a rank, above Knight, and it's how Padawans address their teachers. All Masters are Knights, but not all Knights are Masters. Knights can take Padawans, and are addressed as "Master" by their Padawans.

I'm kind of confused as to why so much of Star Wars fanfic land is time travelers struggling with their PTSD. Harry Potter fanfic land is much happier.


	4. Chapter 4: Interview

Chapter 4: Interview

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan slid into the booth at Didi's Cafe, glancing curiously around. Qui-Gon knew that while the boy had been out of the temple about once a month, it'd mainly been on field trips to museums and other notable sights, taken along with other Initiates and younglings.

A gritty diner and bar like Didi's was new to the boy, and it showed. He stuck out like a Jedi Initiate in a crummy diner that lowlifes, petty criminals, and Senatorial aids. They had at least beaten the lunch rush, and no one was at the booths or tables near them.

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan reached out to the Force, finding the rhythm and feel of the place, and synchronizing himself to it, posture, expression and air all changing. In a moment, he was no longer an interested tourist with a gentle yet military bearing, but a native, a streetsmart hardscrabble youth who probably had a weapon hidden somewhere.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.

"You did it," said Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon nodded. Harmonizing with his surroundings was automatic for him.

They sat in silence. Obi-Wan fidgeted, then with a deep breath, stopped fidgeting.

Didi came around the bar. A small, heavyset man who looked constitutionally sad despite his sincere smile. "Stars and Planets, it's Qui-Gon Jinn."

Even as Didi was enveloping him in a hug, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's eyes flicker as he recognized the name. He'd felt the boy wanting to ask.

Didi said, "And who is this delightful young man with you?"

"An Initiate I'm interviewing. We'll both have tea. And the special."

Didi bustled away, and Qui-Gon decided to properly start the interview. "If you were a Jedi Knight, what would your duties be?"  
"I don't know. Based on my proficiency with a lightsaber, I imagine I'd be more of a Guardian. But I'm 12, and I've never been on a mission. Perhaps I'll be a healer, an educator, or a pure diplomat. I don't think I'd be a pilot or an engineer."

"Yes, your lightsaber skills." The boy had held himself back during the class, likely to accommodate the purpose of the exercise. It was impressive that he'd tamed his pride enough to do so, but likely he was proud of the fact that he'd done so. "You're more skilled than the others."

Obi-Wan nodded. "It worries me."

Qui-Gon felt the truth of that. Whatever arrogance the boy felt over his skills was minor, a secondary emotion at best, overcome by his worry, fear even, hardly a more appropriate emotion for a Jedi, but much less expected.

Obi-Wan must've sensed his question, because he explained. "I have seen Masters and Knights spar. I know I am weak. And I know that sometimes Masters and Knights die on missions. How easily would my friends, even weaker than I, die if a mission went poorly? I don't think about it a lot. I try not to fear it. But it would be good if they were stronger. That's why we have classes. So we'll be stronger, and accomplish our missions without dying."

In some ways, it was the best type of fear, based not in concern for his own dignity and self-image but in sincere care for others.

Still dangerous, of course.

Qui-Gon said, "Do you know anyone who died? Perhaps an older Initiate who became a Padawan?" He couldn't remember any young Padawans dying within the past few years.

"No," said Obi-Wan.

A waitress came with their food.

Obi-Wan took in the sight and smell of it, thanked the waitress and Qui-Gon, hid his trepidation, and took a bite. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and made eye contact with an amused Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon said, "What do you think of the food?"  
"It's a new experience."

"It's bad, you mean. I know it is, yet I frequent this cafe."

Obi-Wan considered, stretched out with the Force, and said, "You come here to get a sense of the seamier side of the city. Keeping tabs on the lower levels."

"Good." Very good. "But more than that. Didi knows a great deal about what's going on in the criminal underworld. He's involved, you might say."

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's surprise, his distrustful glance around, his incredulity that a Jedi would use such a source. Exactly what Qui-Gon would've expected from an Initiate.

But Obi-Wan's response took him by surprise. "If he's passing information on to a Jedi, doesn't that put him in a lot of danger? If other criminals found out."

"They know," said Qui-Gon, "I am hardly the only Jedi who uses Didi so." Qui-Gon smiled, letting Obi-Wan consider the puzzle, knowing there was no chance of an Initiate solving it.

Obi-Wan picked at his food, grimaced, and meditated on the question. The boys breathing slowed as he reached out to the Force.

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open, and he said, "It's a way to launder information. If I were a thief who was mad at a mobster, and I had information that could hurt the mobster, I wouldn't go directly to the police, or directly to the Jedi. I'd end up in a court case or in a cell or being killed by the mobster. Instead, I'd mention it to Didi, or just to someone who would mention it to Didi, because then the Jedi would find out."

"Yes," said Qui-Gon, pulling in his surprise. "But the perverseness of the relationship goes deeper than that. Petty criminals come here because they know the police leave it alone, and because they know serious violence within it would draw the ire of the Jedi, making it a safe place to meet, drink, get drunk, and tell Didi more than they should."

Obi-Wan's eyes were wide. "The Jedi Order shelters criminals?"  
"We shelter Didi, who commits very few crimes these days past a bit of fencing."

Ob-Wan blinked, imagining Didi lunging at someone with a practice saber and trying to work out what law that broke.

"The fencing of stolen goods," Qui-Gon clarified. "Finding buyers for stolen datapads, and the like. Even such petty crimes do real harm, but as Jedi, petty crime is not in our jurisdiction. Should it be? If you could change the Jedi Order, what changes would you make?"

Most Initiates, asked such a question, would give a non-answer, but Obi-Wan said, "I'm probably wrong, but I think Jedi should carry rifles. Ones that can be easily be disassembled and reassembled. At least carry them on missions where it's known that open fighting is likely, or even taken for granted as part of the mission. Why shouldn't we carry rifles then? How many Jedi have died because they were attacked at a distance and couldn't respond?"

"Many," said Qui-Gon. "Yet many Jedi also have died due to an over eagerness to fight, a decision to resort to violence when there were still other options, which would be made more prevalent by the ability to attack from a distance. And many Jedi have lived because we are seen as peacekeepers, not warriors. That we do not carry blasters of any sort is a large part of that. Do you have any more suggestions?"

"I don't know how or if it could be done technically. But it would be good if lightsabers weren't shorted out by water. And if they could cut through electrostatic shielding. And I've read that there are now some droids that have on-board shield generators strong enough to resist their own blaster bolts, so it would be good if lightsabers could raise blaster bolts to higher energy states as they deflected them."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. Most Initiates couldn't imagine any changes to the Jedi Order, viewing it as perfected, but Obi-Wan had made two, both well thought out, but also both entirely martial in nature, and reflective of the fear he'd expressed earlier. "Do you have any suggestions that don't have to do with how Jedi might kill people more efficiently?"

Obi-Wan's face scrunched. "It's not a suggestion, and I don't know if it's a problem for older Jedi, maybe it's just something Initiates grow out of, but we're taught we should feel our emotions move through us, understand them, and let them go. But it's much easier to pretend not to have any emotions all, and it looks about the same on the outside, even though it's not similar. Because I don't think you can understand or release emotions you've hidden from yourself. So maybe it would be good if our Instructors were more encouraging of expressions of emotion, so that Initiates wouldn't learn to suppress them."

Qui-Gon had often said much the same, but about Knights and Masters, even council members. It was nearly enough to make up the boy's fear of weakness and preoccupation with fighting.

Nearly.

Qui-Gon said, "Would you make any adjustments to the Jedi Code?" There were three ways to interpret the word 'code.' It could refer to the Jedi Creed, which was just a few lines long, the Analectic Code, was a vast series of texts expanding on that Creed, or the Iurisprudentia, a record of decisions make by the Council over the millennia.

Qui-Gon was more interested in how Obi-Wan would interpret the question than in how he would answer it.

Obi-Wan looked nervous, but jumped right to the Creed. "Instead of saying, 'there is no emotion, there is peace. There is no knowledge, there is ignorance,' and the like I wonder if it might be better in some ways to say 'Peace over emotion. Knowledge over ignorance.'"

"You're bothered by the fact that all the lines of the Creed are, if taken at face value, blatantly untrue?"

Obi-Wan nodded mutely.

"There's value to that. It incites one to contemplate deeper meanings to the words, and deeper connections between the meanings." The problem came when dogma displaced mysticism and some begin to insist that the literal meaning was literally true, regardless of how self-evidently false that was.

Qui-Gon said, "Do you wish to be a Jedi Knight? There's equal honor in other choices."

"I want to, but I'm doing better at not thinking about it. I know my true goal should be to be the best Initiate I can, not to be selected. But being a Jedi Knight feels important to me. It's not bad to prefer one outcome to another."

Qui-Gon said, "It is the purpose of all sentients to bring about preferred outcomes. But we should prefer the quality of the outcome, not its plot. Whether you are a Knight, a Healer or a Farmer matters little, only what you do with being so. Still, it's acceptable to believe that you're best suited to be a Jedi. So long as you do not become attached to the idea. I suppose you have daydreams about being a Jedi? With elaborate lightsaber battles against pirates, droids, and even the odd Sith?" Qui-Gon smiled as he said it, knowing all Initiates, no matter how serious, had such daydreams. The question was whether Obi-Wan would admit to it.

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon. Very frequently. Usually, it's a series of fights, a war even, and I have allies, other Jedi, mostly." His voice was low, quiet, intense. "We win the first fight, but one of the other Jedi dies. Siri maybe. Then in the second fight, because a Jedi died, the other Jedi are harder pressed, and two die. And in the fourth fight, four die. It continues until the Temple itself is burned and Master Yoda and I are the only ones left, and we hide from those who hunt us, and I become a sad old recluse gently withering away. I have nightmares about it."

Qui-Gon was still. Those fears went deeper than he'd realized. 12-year-old Initiates were not supposed to have such thoughts.

"I've read about visions, and I know these aren't visions. They have nothing of the Force to them. They're just bad dreams. Though sometimes I have them while awake."

Qui-Gon said, "Have you suffered any trauma, or seen anyone die, perhaps violently?"

"No. I don't know why I think like this. The other Initiates don't. All I can find in my mind is the belief that it could all happen. And it's true, it could, if there were a major war. It's been a thousand years since the last galactic war, and some might say that means we're past them, but others might say that means we're past due."

Qui-Gon said, "It frightens you."

"Sometimes."

"Most wouldn't admit to feeling any fear."  
Obi-Wan shrugged. "When I feel how I shouldn't, denying that I do doesn't help any."

That was precisely the sort of statement Qui-Gon wanted to hear, and precisely the sort most Initiates wouldn't make. Obi-Wan Kenobi was an odd mix of the laudable and the unacceptable.

Qui-Gon tossed a few credit chips on the table and said, "We'll get some real food at a stall, and we will meditate together."

#

#

The boy sat on the cushion with good posture, body relaxed, and cleared his mind as quickly as a light could be turned on or off.

He made a regular practice of meditation, then.

The Force swirled through and around Obi-Wan, more powerfully than Qui-Gon had expected, and he'd known Obi-Wan surpassed most Initiates in his connection to the Force.

But it felt off. Twisted. The difference was subtle; Qui-Gon wouldn't have noticed it if hadn't been focusing on the boy. He felt no darkness, but it reminded him of how the nightsister he'd encountered on Dathomir had channeled the Force.

Qui-Gon said, "What are you doing?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "I'm meditating."

"Describe your meditation."

"I close my eyes and clear my mind. I stretch out with the Force, and give myself over to it. As I gain awareness through the Force, I bring that awareness to bear on myself, notice my calling upon the Force, follow it back out of myself, and back into myself, continuing recursively. The Force loops through me. It flows."

"Who taught you to meditate like that?"

"Master Yoda spoke of using the Force to examine yourself. It made sense to me."

"You've gone much to far with it. It isn't proper meditation. Give yourself over to the Force, and then continue to give yourself over to the Force. Bring, if you like an issue to its attention. The issue may even be yourself. But you do not attempt make yourself the center of the Force. That is a Sith's way."

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment, shocked by Qui-Gon's words. It would've been easy to nod his head and submit to the Master's opinions. But not submitting to the advice of Masters had become a problem of his. "That form of meditation is very important to me. I don't believe it does any harm."

Qui-Gon shook his head.

#

#

Two Jedi Masters sat in the room of a thousand fountains. Mist sprayed them, birds chirped, and Qui-Gon's agitation was palpable.

Qui-Gon said, "He's talented in the Force, and with a lightsaber. Intelligent, hardworking, kind, caring, honest, lacking in both anger and pride. But he should not be a Jedi. He is fearful, paranoid, obsessed with strength in combat."

Yoda said, "Good traits, those faults might be, if moderated, they were."

"Even if so, I am not the person to do it. He is strong in the Force, but when he meditates..." on reflection, it wasn't as bad as he'd first thought, not truly of the Darkside. But also not appropriate of a Jedi. "He does not truly lose himself to the Force."

"Teach him that, you might."

"He doesn't wish to lose himself to the Force. And that paranoia and desire for strength... being a Jedi is the worst thing for him. Especially the sort of combat frequent Jedi guardian his scores suggest he'd be. It would only feed his fear and need for strength. When he turns 13, send him to the Jedi Service Corps. Medical division. He'll become a Doctor and live a nice life, and if he's as smart, hardworking and abhorrent of death as he seems to be, he'll make a contribution to the galaxy worthy of any Jedi."

Yoda's gaze was slow and unblinking. "Know all your objections, I do. Yet gifted, he is, and no danger do I sense in his training."

Qui-Gon's returning gaze was just as resolved. "Then I wish you success in finding him a Master."

#

#

Old Ben was growing worried. He'd assumed that Obi-Wan would easily get a Master-nearly all Initiates did, and with so much skill, how could Obi-Wan be the exception?

But the level of talent and skill offput the Knights, who felt they'd best leave him for a Master. And when the Masters spoke to him, Obi-Wan offput them himself.

The boy, even if he didn't understand it fully, was preparing diligently for war, and for existential battle with the Sith. From Old Ben's perspective, that was excellent. But to the temple Masters, it was an obsession with the violent side of a Jedi's life, a massive red flag loudly proclaiming that Obi-Wan was not suited to be a Jedi.

And Jedi carrying rifles? Improved lightsabers? Old Ben had never considered such ideas. They felt strange and wrong, and the boy was too honest to dissemble.

Not to mention his meditation technique. It was the boy's own version of what Old Ben, Yoda, and the spirit of Qui-Gon had been working on. Seeking oneness with the Force, yet remaining distinct.

Old Ben had found the technique difficult and counter-intuitive, like trying to imagine movement in five dimensions. It had taken years to manage properly even after they'd mostly worked out the theory. Obi-Wan had progressed to it from traditional Force meditation instinctively, like a child moving from crawling to walking.

It was a subtle but fundamental shift in the technique of the Jedi, resulting in a subtle but fundamental shift in the philosophy of the Jedi. An adjustment that, if they'd made it before the fall of the Jedi, likely would have prevented that fall.

Major changes to the Jedi Order took either slow, gradual evolution over many decades, or cataclysmic events. One Initiate meditating funny wouldn't do it. And it didn't help that Obi-Wan, usually so quick on the uptake, didn't understanding what he was doing. It was important to him, but he didn't realize it was important generally.

Old Ben had very nearly not been chosen as a Padawan. Getting Qui-Gon to take him on had been hell, and he hadn't been using unconventional Force techniques that drew some small degree of inspiration from the Sith, and he hadn't been obsessed with the possibility of full blown galactic war.

What if Obi-Wan wasn't chosen to be a Padawan?

:::

It seems I'm not going where I thought I would with this.

In the Originals, Obi-Wan and Yoda are always talking about 'searching your feelings' and 'the Force flowing through you.' These are, at least, less emphasized in the prequels. And supposedly, Obi-Wan and Yoda didn't take on Leia and Luke immediately because they thought they needed to change the Jedi, and learn new things about the Force.

I wrote a book called Monstrosity. By JLL. It's available on Amazon for just 99 cents, about as much as a candy bar. So if you're enjoying this, please consider doing me a favor by buying yourself a candy bar. (Reviews matter a crazy amount on Amazon, so if you review it, I'll love you forever.)

I believe that Initiates who are sent to the Jedi Service Corps upon not being selected as a Padawan are considered Jedi*. As in, supposedly Jedi, but really, not really.


	5. Chapter 5: Komari

**Chapter 5: Komari**

Komari Vosa first noticed the boy in a practice room. An Initiate, on the older side, blurring through Shii-Cho forms with more skill and grace than could be expected from an Initiate. And a Force presence that would've done a Padawan of fifteen proud.

She raised an eyebrow, wondering briefly who the prodigy was and who would train him, then moved onto her own business. Master Dooku valued punctuality.

The next time she noticed him, he was sitting at the shore of the artificial indoor lake, and she wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't caught a whiff of his sadness, and if she hadn't been bored and if misery hadn't loved company.

She said, "Hey, squirt. Need a sparring partner?"

He looked up. Komari knew he saw a senior Padawan, almost old enough for promotion to Knight. Such did not spar with random Initiates. He pointed to his chest with a questioning look.

"Yes, you, small one. Well? Wanna?"

He shot to his feet. "I'm Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi. It would be my great honor to-"

"Yada yada, I'm Komari Vosa, be quiet and come on."

She set off for the nearest practice room, the boy following. She smiled as she felt him master his excitement. For her, this would be an amusing way to blow twenty minutes. For him, this would be a rare treat.

She swept into a practice room and drew one of her lightsabers, registering that Obi-Wan's eyes widened fractionally when he saw the curved hilt. The boy ignited his own blade, settled into the Force, and assumed a stance she hadn't expected.

Soresu.

Komari attacked, and found no openings, his technique excellent, his movements faster and stronger than she'd expected.

Still, she was faster and stronger and had greater reach and was stronger in the Force and Makashi, her preferred style, was the best style for lightsaber duels, so after a few seconds she stabbed him in the shoulder anyway.

But the gap, though large, was smaller than it had any right to be.

Obi-Wan reset and Komari attacked again, startled by the fact that the boy seemed to be learning, adjusting in real time to a style he'd probably only ever seen brief demonstrations of before.

Komari smacked him across the face, leaving a small burn on the bridge of his nose. Not a polite place to hit someone, but Komari was known to think it was funny.

The boy restrained his yelp, took a breath and processed his error, not seeming in the least upset.

"Can you attack?" she said.

He nodded, and she held herself on the defensive as he came at her with a burst of Ataru. Fast, whirling, acrobatic, technically very sound, if not quite as flawless as his Soresu.

Indeed, there were whispers of Soresu to his Ataru, making it understated, economical, at least by Ataru's standards.

With a faked move left, she incited him into an ill-advised corkscrewing leap and casually stuck out her lightsaber so he'd hit it on the way down.

Mid-fall, his downward acceleration slowed, giving him time to complete his turn, to bring his blade around, into contact with hers, the impact of the strike less than it should've been, yet somehow enough to loft him back into the air, away from her, and he fell to the ground faster than a stone would've, faster than objects were supposed to under Coruscant's gravity.

Komari blinked. Whatever that Force technique was, she hadn't seen it before.

Initiates weren't supposed to show senior Padawans Force techniques the Padawan had never seen before. It was supposed to work the other way around, if anything.

But no time to think about that, because Kenobi was coming at her, not with Ataru, but with weaponized Soresu, and not Djem So, which Komari had always thought of as weaponized Soresu, but now she knew it wasn't, this was.

Kenobi was moving relentlessly into her space, trying to get in so close that his parries would be strikes and her own blade would be redirected into her.

Komari stabbed him in the shoulder and smacked him on the side of the head, then stepped back and powered down her lightsaber. She said, "How old are you?"

"Twelve years and two hundred and seventeen days, Padawan Vosa." said Kenobi.

"Komari," said Komari. She was usually happy for others to stand on ceremony with her, but this was too weird. She said, "And where did you learn all that?" All the styles were demonstrated to Initiates, but only Shii Cho was really taught in a rigorous way. Plenty taught themselves by watching Knights spar and perusing the archives, but such self-tutelage invariably led to bad form and bad habits.

"My instructors help me. But mainly, from watching Knights and Masters spar, perusing the archives, and teaching myself," he said.

Komari shook her head. "And who taught you that strange technique?"

"Hmm?"

"Where you adjusted the speed of your fall?"

"Oh, that. That's simple. I found the way of it myself. You have to find the connection between yourself and the planet's gravity, then just manipulate that connection. I've never seen anyone do it, but I assume lots of Masters know how. It isn't hard."

Komari's master, Master Dooku, knew as many obscure Force techniques as any Jedi alive except maybe Yoda and Yaddle. She'd never seen him perform that trick, and she could think of many times when it might've been useful.

Kenobi said, "I haven't been able make the gravity repel me at all. I just get lighter or heavier."

"Show me," said Komari.

Kenobi gathered the Force and jumped straight in the air, tapping his hand against the ceiling. When he fell, he did not float gently like a feather, but the fall was very noticeably slower than it ought to be. Perhaps a third of normal speed. She felt the Force around him, moving strangely, flowing in and out, and in and out, directing something straight through him that should normally take notice of him.

Komari hypothesized that he was making himself invisible to the gravitons.

When he landed, she said, "Have you shown that to anyone?"

"My friends," he said.

"Any Masters?"

"No. Do you think I should?"

"Yes. Definitely." Holy Hell. Sith Spawn. Two Rumplers in a purse. This kid... "Why don't you have a master yet?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Because no Knight or Master has selected me."

"Don't be dense. With those skills you should've been snatched up before you turned eleven."

Kenobi said, "Skills may turn heads, but it is only proper that they do not drive selection. Great skills do not compensate for a poor mindset, but only compound it. Most of those lacking Padawans have spoken with me, and it has been determined that I am overly fearful and overly concerned with the more fraught aspects of a Jedi Knight's life. I cannot say they're wrong. Indeed, my desire to prepare for calamity is decreasing my ability to do so, as it seems increasingly unlikely I will be selected as a Padawan. As such, I'm ramping up my medical training."

Komari translated that. "You're not being chosen because they think you might turn to the darkside?"

"More likely, they fear I'd be an overly violent and contrarian Knight, viewing myself more as a warrior than a peacekeeper. But essentially, yes."

His Force presence was clear, bright, calm and controlled. The only emotions she felt as they spoke of his likely exit from the Jedi were amusement and sadness. Even his words reminded her of a Master.

Komari said, "That's the stupidest thing I've heard in weeks."

Kenobi's lip quirked. "Your faith in me is gratifying. But on what grounds do you suppose your evaluation, based on ten minutes of saber practice, is more reliable than the wisdom of dozens of Knights and Masters who have collectively spent hundreds of hours with me?"

"The collective wisdom of the Jedi Order is sometimes very stupid."

That should've dredged up his anger and fear, however deep it was hiding, but again, she felt only amusement and sadness from the boy. "Even the Jedi are not immune from group think. But they are usually right. If you insist on dissenting from the rest and finding me suitable, you'll at least be in good company. It is at Master Yoda's request that I am still interviewed regularly despite word having got around." He raised his lightsaber. "Shall we continue?"

#

#

Komari watched Kenobi's burns heal. She'd given him many, and she'd wanted to use bacta, but Kenobi insisted it was an excellent opportunity to practice his Force Healing techniques. Which he expected to be in great need of in a few months, when he was transferred to the Medical Corp.

Komari had been the recipient of Force Healing many times, and that aspect of his abilities was impressive as well.

Komari interrupted him from his Healing Trance by saying, "I can't find gravity."

Kenobi said, "You need to look under. You should see the gravity fields meeting your own fields of existence right at the edge of you."

She focused, stretching out slightly, creating a web of the Force just above her skin, and she found the confluence of interactions, but making sense of it... "I don't see how I can use my own aura to find something hidden under my aura," she said.

He started. "Oh. Right. It might help to push your awareness outside yourself, then turn it around to examine yourself from outside."

Komari tried, and Kenobi said, "No. You're just seeing yourself from the inside." Komari settled into a normal meditation upon herself, examining herself with the Force.

Kenobi said, "Now you're just using the Force as a mirror. You only see the parts of yourself that are facing the mirror. It might appear objective, but it isn't." His voice tightened. "And we have a problem. It seems the gravity trick is enabled by the Force channeling technique I invented. I hadn't realized that."

Komari was so startled she lost her handle on the Force. The phrase 'the Force channeling technique I invented' wasn't something she expected to hear from anyone, nevermind a twelve year old.

Kenobi said, "You shouldn't learn it. The Masters don't like it. It's part of why I haven't been selected. Even Master Yoda doesn't want me using it until 'further studied it has been, young one.'"

"Tell me about it," said Komari.

#

#

Master Dooku had once insisted that Komari learn how to properly cook, claiming a robust knowledge of food and wine was an asset in diplomacy. Komari had bad memories of handcranking her own pasta, the dough kneaded and folded, kneaded and folded. Bad memories of Master Dooku evaluating her cooking, every compliment elegant and backhanded.

Kenobi's crazy technique reminded her of that, except it was her own mind being kneaded and folded, kneaded and folded.

 _"_ _The goal is_ _to see yourself from the ultimate objective perspective of the Force._ _But at the same time, to continue seeing the reality around_ _you_ _from your own subjective perspective, as you normally do."_

At three in the morning, sitting on the meditation mat in her quarters, she got a glimmer of it. Herself, from the ultimate objective perspective of the Force.

She'd never known what funny faces humans had.

She'd never known how confusing selfishness and anger were.

She'd never known what an odd little thing she was. Tormented by a crush she'd conceived for the sake of defining herself beyond just being a Jedi, the crush now grown and imperiling her status as a Jedi. Wasting time and energy on that which brought neither profit nor satisfaction nor joy. Not even fun.

 _"If you use this technique, you'll see who you are. I don't know what happens if you're not anyone yet."_

Komari Vosa rather thought she wasn't anyone yet.

#

#

As always, watching Master Yoda instruct the younglings brought back memories of when she'd been small, of when Master Yoda had instructed her. He'd been teaching the younglings the same lessons for centuries, but the lessons were not stale. He was eager to share his knowledge, and he responded to his students.

Komari couldn't imagine having the patience for it.

The class ended, the younglings filed out, and Komari filed in.

"Master Yoda? If I might have a few minutes of your time?"

The Grandmaster's gaze was slow and unblinking. She felt no examination through the Force, yet she felt as if his eyes were penetrating her all the same. "Changed, you are."

"There's an Initiate. A very unusual one. He-"

Yoda said, "Met Obi-Wan, you have, Padawan Vosa."

"Yes. Yesterday. I noticed he was very skilled, so I thought to spar with him. We meditated together, and-"

"Taught you his technique, he did."

"The basics of it. At my insistence."

"And in one night learned it, you did?"

"Just a little. The complete basics. I saw myself from what he called the objective perspective."

Grandmaster Yoda actually sighed. "Achieve that, I have. Many times over the centuries. Stymied by the next step, I am. For over 800 years, channeled the Force one way I have. Now, to learn another? Feel as if I am attempting to fold myself into my own mouth, I do, when Obi-Wan's technique I attempt."

Obi-Wan's technique. "He really invented it?"

"Found the possibility within the Force, he did."

"Is it really true he won't be selected?"

"Unlikely, his selection seems."

Komari said, "That's insane. I don't care what he says. His presence in the Force is almost like a miniature of a Master's. And not even that miniature."

"Eerie, by some he is called."

"If you can't find him a master, let me take the trials. Soon. So I'm done before he turns 13. I'll convince Master Dooku to take him on. If he won't, I'll do it myself."

Yoda said, "Ready for the trials, you are not. Ready for a Padawan, even less."

"I know. If I were his master, I wouldn't actually be his master. He'd just call me that in public. It would be the course of last resort to keep him in the Order."

Komari felt Yoda's senses flow over her. See through her.

Yoda said, "Replaced your master as the object of your obsession, young Obi-Wan has."

"No, Master Yoda, not like that. I don't know much. I'm very uncertain of most things. But I'm sure that Kenobi has to stay a Jedi."

Yoda nodded slowly. "Important, he is. Yet more freedom to experiment with the Force in the Medical Corp, he would have."

"You want him to go there?" Was Yoda why he couldn't find a master?

"Wish for him to become a Jedi Knight, I do. A master unable to find for him, I have been. What right is more sacred to Jedi than that Padawans are theirs to choose? And how poisoned would the Master & Padawan relationship be if both knew that purely on my insistence, it existed? Better he be in the Medical Corps than with a master unsuited and unready."

There was no need for Yoda to say again that she was unready, unsuited.

"Then if not me, Master Dooku."

"Unready for the trials, you are. Even if prevailed, you did, stated you are his last apprentice, Master Dooku has. So certain you could persuade him to take another, are you? And the ideal master for Obi-Wan, Master Dooku is _not._ "

That _not_ sounded very final. Komari wanted to argue for her master, but in truth Master Dooku had always struggled at truly listening from those of lower standing, and whoever taught Obi-Wan Kenobi would have to listen a great deal.

Yoda said, "But in other ways, helpful you may be." Yoda grinned; she was not used to Yoda grinning. Then again, she wasn't used to talking with Yoda about temple politics. "A figure of authority, you are not. Badger honored Masters into submission, you may."

:::

Komari Vosa is a relatively unknown character, not an OC. She was Dooku's apprentice, his last before joining the Sith, I think. How closely associated she should be with Obi-Wan in this story is something I'm still trying to work out.

If you're enjoying this, consider buying Monstrosity on Amazon, by JLL, for just 99 cents.

Gravitons are massless particles that probably really exist. I assume that, as with many particles, a wave conceptualization would be at least as accurate, but particles lend themselves better to modeling. Or something. I'm not a physicist.


	6. Chapter 6: Teacher

**Chapter 6: Teaching**

Obi-Wan Kenobi liked his quarters. A small room with a bed, a desk, two chair, a meditation mat and many shelves. A small commode attached. A safe place.

His main problem with Komari being in it was that he didn't have any refreshments to offer. He'd never had any guests besides his friends, who didn't count, and he was quite certain you were supposed to offer tea and something else. Cookies, perhaps.

Lacking both, he sat on his meditation mat as Komari wandered his room.

Komari picked up a model of a ship he'd built, turned it over, set it down, and picked up a set of lightsaber schematics off his desk.

"These are different," she said.

"Lightsaber technology has hardly changed at all in the last thousand years, despite the improvements to field and energy systems. A better lightsaber should be easy enough to design."

She waved the flimsy. "This design?"

"No. I'm told that design would make it explode. I'm not an engineer. But it should be possible."

Engineering wasn't her greatest strength, but Komari was certain she was better at it than Kenobi. The kid was twelve, and he couldn't be a prodigy at everything. "I'll take a look at it. After you help me with that technique of yours again."  
Obi-Wan smiled. It had be intensely flattering that a senior Padawan wanted to learn from him. "We have to be careful. There's enough whispering already. Let's not be called a heretical cult."

That... hadn't occurred to her. It really should've. If not for Master Yoda's interest, Kenobi would've been under real threat of censure.

Komari laid out her meditation mat and Obi-Wan said "Come in," an instant before there was a knock at the door.

A girl stepped inside and stared at Komari.

Obi-Wan said, "Siri, meet Komari Vosa, your older self from an alternate timeline. Komari, meet Siri Tachi, the only successful outcome of Master Windu's secret Jedi cloning project. She's cloned from you, in case that wasn't clear."

Obi-Wan returned to meditation as if he'd said nothing significant at all, and the two females stared at each other.

Siri eventually said, "You're so weird, Obi. We don't even look like each other."

That was true. Siri was pale and blonde with blue eyes. Komari had short spiky hair with yellow eyes and dusky skin that had an almost reddish cast.

Obi-Wan said, "Cosmetic differences only. Two overly aggressive human female Jedi with a flair for lightsaber combat and who wish to learn a potentially dangerous Force technique of ill repute despite their being at critical points on their Jedi paths where their reputations matter immensely."

"I'm not overly aggressive," said Siri, and kicked him.

"I should've said overly violent. And kicky. You're going to invent you're own lightsaber style one day. Form 8: The Art of Using Your Lightsaber as a Distraction so While You Kick People."

Komari frowned. Annoyed first by the intrusion, and second by the realization that Kenobi had a stronger (and stranger) sense of humor than she'd known, and he perhaps only showed it to the intruder. Siri.

Komari realized the pettiness of her thoughts and swept them away. She inclined her head slightly and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Siri Tachi."

The girl bowed in response. Now that she was done kicking Obi-Wan, her awe at finding a senior Padawan in her friend's quarters was written on her face. Along with confusion. Lots and lots of confusion.

Komari said, "Kenobi has created some techniques I'm interested in."

Siri nodded rapidly. "Obi-Wan's the best. Even Master Yoda asks him questions. But he won't teach the techniques to me."

"After you're selected as a Padawan, I said."

Siri stuck her tongue out and Komari winced. It had been years since she'd had to deal much with little kids. Kenobi didn't count.

Komari said, "I spoke to Knight Saynar. She said she'd think about. Adi Gallia seems more receptive, but I think she's interested in someone else."  
A long moment of silence as Siri twisted her fingers, broken by Obi-Wan saying, "Siri, where were you at lunch three days past?"

She looked away.

"With Master Adi Gallia?"

Siri nodded. "I don't. I just turned eleven. It's not right for me to be chosen before you."

Kenobi rolled his eyes. "Don't peg yourself to me. Siri Tachi and Adi Gallia. It feels right. I'm happy for you. Assuming she really does choose you. Do you think she will?"

Siri said, "It's not like I've ever been chosen before, so I'm not sure. Maybe. But yes. I think, from what she said, that she's decided, but she's waiting until I'm a little older. She told me what I should work on for the next few months so I'll be mission ready."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Then you should work on it."

"She told me to get better at meditating."

Obi-Wan patted the rug beside him.

"I want to learn your version."

"You can't learn my way until you've gotten good at the normal way." He wasn't sure that was true, but you at least had to be able to sit still with your mind clear for long periods of time. Not one of Siri's greatest strengths.

The three of them sat together, Obi-Wan coaching Komari on his technique. The Force moving in and out, in and out, objective to subjective to objective again, a circular flow always in both states yet always moving from one to the other, like sewing, or like standing between two mirrors.

Obi-Wan said, "Siri. You should be focusing on your own meditation."

Siri sighed and cleared her mind.

#

#

Old Ben watched Komari Vosa with a mixture of trepidation and hope. After she'd taken an interest in Obi-Wan he'd found her in the Dark Timeline, and examined her life. She'd been Master Dooku's last apprentice, a practitioner of JarKai Makashi, similar to Ventress in many ways. Due to her excessive violence and her infatuation with her Master, she hadn't been allowed to take the trials and she'd left the Jedi.

Shortly after, she'd turned to the darkside, becoming the leader of the Bando Gora cult, at which point the shroud of darkness make her life difficult for Old Ben to view, though not nearly so hard as Darth Sidious-her strength in the Force had regressed after leaving the Jedi. Eventually, for reasons Old Ben didn't understand, Count Dooku had killed her, one of his early actions upon turning to the darkside.

In this timeline, that infatuation with her Master seemed to have been struck a mortal blow. Her remaining a Jedi would be a significant gain. She had the potential to become one of the galaxy's foremost masters of lightsaber combat. An excellent weapon against the Sith. And just having her as a Jedi instead of the leader of the Bando Gora cult would make the galaxy a marginally better place.

But he didn't like someone with such a bad alternate future spending so much time with his younger self.

Then again, you couldn't save the galaxy safely, and Master Dooku's cursed training tree was the place to start. Komari, had turned to the darkside. Another Padawan, Qui-Gon, had had two apprentices, one of whom, Xanatos, had turned to the darkside. Old Ben, Qui-Gon's only other Padawan, had had only one apprentice, Anakin, whose turn to the darkside was perhaps the most important fall in all of Jedi history. And of course, Master Dooku himself had become a Sith, turned Ventress from an angry, half-trained Jedi into a wannabe Sith, and entrapped a number of Jedi in the darkside during the Clone War.

Judging from that training tree, you'd think Jedi turning to the darkside was normal, but in truth, Old Ben thought a solid half of all the Jedi who'd turned to the darkside over the past thousand years could be traced to Dooku.

Hopefully, in this timeline, it would be kept to just Xanatos.

#

#

The Masters and Knights settled into their seats to watch the Demonstration. Every five months, when the Demonstration was held, there was a grumbling that using lightsaber combat to get a look at Initiates screwed the Initiates priorities, elevating lightsaber combat to a level of importance it shouldn't have.

Every five months, this was taken under advisement, and five months later, the Initiates were trotted out again to test each other in lightsaber combat. It had been that way for centuries, and Qui-Gon was certain that Yoda regarded the argument as a vital part of the tradition.

Qui-Gon suspected that over the past few years, browbeating him into attendance had had also become part of the tradition for Master Yoda.

"Master Qui-Gon! You're back from your mission!"

Qui-Gon's gaze found Komari Vosa, his old master's new apprentice, sitting next to that old master.

He hadn't spoken with her much.

"Sit with us," said Komari. "I've saved you a spot!" She gestured to the one next to her, which had a cloak dropped across it.

Master Dooku gave her an arch look, and Qui-Gon knew her future held a lecture about excessive friendliness and exclamation points, but Master Dooku gave Qui-Gon a slight nod.

He took the seat. His relationship with his old master had always been professional, and had remained such after he'd become a Knight, but he had no objection to catching up. It would be a useful distraction from watching the Initiates stumble endearingly around.

Master Dooku said, "My Padawan insisted that we come. There's an Initiate she's all but adopted."

Oh? She'd likely be Knighted in a year or two. Was she already thinking of taking a Padawan? Some of the younger Initiates might be plausible options. Qui-Gon cautioned, "A few years as a lone Knight are critical to any Jedi's growth."

Komari said, "The one I like turns 13 in four weeks." She sent a pointed glance at Qui-Gon, who looked away, just in time to see the first two Initiates take the floor.

A twi'lek girl, and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"There he is," said Komari. "My little adoptee. He's fantastic. Master Qui-Gon, you should choose him."

Qui-Gon groaned, Komari's motivations clear, and the match began.

The twi'lek girl started warily, maintaining distance, jerking away at the slightest provocation, but Obi-Wan's moves were simple, light, not especially fast, and the girl gained in confidence, attacking as fiercely as the techniques she'd been taught allowed, quick and lithe, their exchanges elegant yet flashy, flowing smoothly from defense to offense and back again.

Komari said, "Kenobi is being himself again."

Master Dooku said, "He's not nearly as impressive as you lead me to believe."

Komari gave a small smile. "If that's what you think, master, you should look closer."

Qui-Gon looked more closely. At Kenobi's stance. His balance. They way he didn't choose the right stroke or take advantage of his greater size.

Master Dooku's eyes narrowed. "He's not trying to win. Why? Does he not wish to be chosen?"

Qui-Gon said, "He's helping her demonstrate her skills."

"Drawing out the best in her," confirmed Komari. "I've seen him do it in practice spars. I never imagined he'd do it here. Not a bad choice though."

Not a bad choice to fool around and end it when he felt like it? That would be more humiliating for his opponent than any quick defeat.

Kenobi left an opening, one at the edge of the girl's ability to exploit, and she took the opening, sweeping her saber into his chest.

She'd earned her victory, but he'd let her do so.

Qui-Gon could see gratitude warring with embarrassment on the twi'lek girl's face. Kenobi said something only she could hear, and gratitude won.

The Initiates bowed to each other and left the floor.

"He actually let himself lose," mused Master Dooku. "And was that Makashi footwork I saw for a moment there?"

Komari said, "He picked it up quickly. Though not as quickly as he learned how to deal with it.

Qui-Gon said, "It's the height of arrogance, making a farce of the Demonstration."

Komari said, "It's a demonstration, Master Jinn, not a tournament. Master Yoda gives a whole speech at the start about how the goal is not to 'win,' but to show others your self. Besides. Kenobi fighting these kids seriously would be even more of a farce."

Obi-Wan came out again several fights later with a different partner. The blonde girl was quite skilled, and Qui-Gon and Dooku both startled when Komari informed them she'd only recently turned 11.

Kenobi raised his level to match. The fight was long, drawing everything out of the girl, offense, defense, tactics, feints, endurance, a surprising familiarity with both Ataru and Soresu, and despite her best efforts, she twice she very nearly lost, saved only by desperate leaps away.

Soaked in sweat, breathing heavy but controlled, she at last struck Kenobi a blow to the thigh that would've cut off his leg if the lightsabers weren't training sabers.

They bowed to each other and walked off the floor. She punched his shoulder, affectionately, but Qui-Gon felt her emotions clearly. She was satisfied with how she'd fought, dissatisfied that she still couldn't make her friend fight her seriously, and worried that those in attendance wouldn't realize that her friend hadn't been trying to win.

From the whispering around him and the rising tide of intrigue, Qui-Gon knew that worry was needless. Most of the Masters and Knights in attendance had realized what Kenobi was up to. It was impressive and strange, arguably arrogant, arguably humble, and would've surely earned Kenobi many visits from prospective masters if most of those who were eligible hadn't interviewed him already.

It happened a third time, much the same way, when Kenobi was trotted out again for the final fight of the Demonstration, against Bruck Chun, who Qui-Gon recalled from his observation of the Initiates' class was on bad terms with Kenobi.

Chun attacked with anger and fear, far too amped up, all aggression, forgoing technique.

Kenobi was calm and placid, retreating slowly about the floor with a steady beat of blocks and parries that settled the other boy. The rhythm restored his technique, and the boy began to fight sensibly. Began to fight well.

Kenobi took the offensive, and Chun defended well. Now that his nerves had settled, he really was quite skilled for an Initiate. If he'd been collected from the start, even Qui-Gon would've felt a stirring of interest.

As Chun fought better and better, Kenobi matched him, and it was only by the narrowest of margins that he was able to strike a blow to Kenobi's chest.

A margin Kenobi had given him.

Chun's emotions were a whirlwind. Exultation, relief, confusion, shame. Kenobi's emotions were too muted for Qui-Gon to get a read on over the rest of the hall.

"Impressive," said Master Dooku. "Why doesn't he have a master?"

Komari said, "His talent intimidates. And he's a little different. A free thinker. Some think he's overly militant, but really, he just believes in being prepared."

Master Dooku said, "It's a shame he's not a year or two younger. If he were, I might be able to take him on."  
Qui-Gon was surprised that Master Dooku would speak so openly (if indirectly) of his Padawan's looming Knighthood.

The Padawan seemed unphased by it. "And you, Master Qui-Gon? Reconsidering at all?"

Qui-Gon thought about. He'd thought about Obi-Wan Kenobi several times over the past few months. Each time he'd concluded that history showed he was a horrible teacher, the worst master imaginable for somone so potentially combustable as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"I've interviewed him," Qui-Gon said. "He's a good kid. But not everyone strong in the Force is meant to become a Jedi."

Komari's eyes was sad. Qui-Gon met her gaze stolidly, confident in his choice, and became uncomfortable when he saw that she was sad for him. For Qui-Gon. That her look was one of pity.

Komari said, "Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi already. You could sooner take the wetness from water than undo that."

#

#

The Force told Yoda that Qui-Gon would require a second pair of hands on the mission to Bandomeer. He considered sending Obi-Wan. A Master without a Padawan and a failed Initiate coincidentally on the same ship with the same destination, where they'd be thrown together by 'fate' if the seemingly simple mission became as complicated as Yoda felt it would.

But Obi-Wan was bound for the Medical Corp, not the AgriCorp, and Yoda feared that Qui-Gon would be too wary of Obi-Wan in any case. A partnership dominated by distrust was worse than no partnership at all.

Instead, Qui-Gon's partner for the mission would be Raycha Ollee, an aging Knight who Yoda hoped to get another five to seven years of active duty from.

Obi-Wan would go to the Force Healers on Galidraan.

:::

Canonically, Komari had blonde hair and blue eyes (just like Siri), but she developed white hair and yellow eyes when she turned to the darkside. I've never really liked the way the darkside changes your appearance and I think her darkside appearance is more interesting, so I'm going with that.

Monstrosity, by JLL. Available on Amazon for just 99 cents. :)

Different sources give different years for the Battle of Galidraan. Most place it somewhere between 40 and 44 BBY. Obi-Wan was born in 57 BBY. So the timing here works. (BBY is like BCE)


	7. Chapter 7: Leaving

**Chapter 7: Leaving**

After the Demonstrations, Obi-Wan had enjoyed conversations with a few Knights and Masters. They'd all wanted to know why he'd fought how he'd fought, and he'd told them all that his lightsaber skills had never been in question.

"So you lost to prove you're willing to lose?" they'd all asked.

"A little," he'd told them all. "But mostly, seeing that a display of my own skills would not help me, I devoted myself to helping my partners demonstrate their own."

They'd talked further, and they'd all gotten the picture that Obi-Wan was neutral about becoming a Jedi Knight, which they didn't like. Droll, that. Wanting it was proof you weren't ready for it. Not wanting it was proof you weren't ready to commit to it.

Probably true though. It was hard to be ready for what you hadn't done.

Master Bondara had come very close to choosing him anyway. Obi-Wan was sure of it. But Master Bondara had asked if he still thought Jedi should carry blaster rifles, and Obi-Wan had explained that he'd meant it to be only for certain missions, and said that he wasn't sure he was right, he was just unconvinced by others' explanations of why he was wrong. Master Bondara nodded, and later Obi-Wan had seen him talking to Darsha, who was too young, but would be old enough soon. Obi-Wan thought they'd be good together.

Two Masters and a Knight had told him they'd take him on if they didn't have Padawans, but they did and that was that.

He thanked them for telling him so, and assured them that he'd grown to like the idea of being in the Medical Corp. Which was true.

Two days before Obi-Wan's birthday, Qui-Gon returned, and the Temple shook with rumors. Qui-Gon had fought a Sith. A turned Jedi. Yoda's evil little brother. Or just the CEO of a large corporation.

Obi-Wan had it from Komari that Qui-Gon's former apprentice, Xanatos, had left the Jedi, turned to the darkside, and gone into business, joining the company Offworld. Master Qui-Gon and Knight Raycha had found that former apprentice in the midst of committing a crime, confronted him, and fought. They'd severely injured Xanatos, but he'd escaped in the end.

Master Qui-Gon and Knight Raycha had gathered strong evidence of Offworld's crimes, which the senior executives strongly disavowed any knowledge of. Komari said Offworld would face increased regulatory pressure and a large fine.

It was interesting, but Obi-Wan devoted most of his time to studying Force Healing and to writing instructions for the meditation technique and the gravity technique, discovering in the process the vast gulf between being able to do something and actually understanding it.

He could instruct someone on doing it, but he didn't have clue how it worked.

Despite that, Komari had just about managed the meditation technique, and she'd promised to teach it to Siri if Siri wanted her to. In turn, he'd promised Komari that he'd keep her appraised of any advancements in understanding he made.

Solemn promises to stay in touch were made. With Komari, Siri, Bant, Garen and Reeft. And, to Obi-Wan's surprise, with Yoda.

The night before Obi-Wan's departure, he felt Yoda outside his room. He jumped up, started the electric hot water kettle, and let the Grandmaster in.

"Speak, we must," said Yoda, his gimer stick in one hand, a clinking bag in the other.

"Of course," said Obi-Wan. "What kind of tea would you like?"

The Grandmaster blinked, and a few minutes later they were seated, drinking tea and nibbling salty rice crackers.

Yoda said, "Take you as my Padawan, I will not."

Obi-Wan said, "That you might never occurred to me."

"Meditated on this, I have. Too old I am. And need me, you do not. Do great things you may, as a member of the Medical Corp. More important things than others, you may accomplish. Make you more important than others, this does _not_. Understand this, do you?"

"Usually," said Obi-Wan.

"Understand it always, and a Jedi you shall be." He gestured with a stick to the bag he'd brought in. "Parts for a lightsaber, these are. A kyber crystal, there is. Mention this to others, you need not."

There wasn't any law in the Republic against having a lightsaber, beyond the restrictions applied to any weapon. And anyone could gather a Kyber crystal. They could even be made. But traditionally, those who entered the Service Corps never advanced past their training sabers. Except in the Exploration Corp. But Yoda wanted him to have a lightsaber.

"Unsure of this, I am. But need this, you may. Danger, I sense in your future. Seek out that danger, you should not."

Obi-Wan nodded. Danger. Well. He'd read about the political instability on Galidraan. It was probably part of why the Medical Corp was there.

"Keep in contact, you will."

"I'd be honored."

"Monthly reports, you will write. Detailed, they will be. Send them to the address sent to your datapad, you will."

"Sure. But. When you say detailed, how detailed do you mean?"

"Depend on what you observe, that will."

The Grandmaster toddled off, saying something about rest, and Obi-Wan went to sleep.

He rose early the next morning, well before the sun, and took a simple breakfast at the cantina where Knights and Masters ate, since the cantina for Initiates wasn't yet open.

Qui-Gon was there, eating with Mace Windu. From their flushed skin, he guessed they'd already sparred together. He bowed his head to the Masters, ate his meal quickly, and as he headed for the door, a voice stopped him.

"Obi-Wan."

He turned. "Yes, Master Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon hesitated. Conflicted. Obi-Wan's eyes widened fractionally. The man was actually reconsidering. Now. At the eleventh hour. When he was packed.

The conflict ended, and Qui-Gon said, "May the Force be with you."

Obi-Wan grinned and bowed. "And with you as well, Master Jinn. And if I may say. I know you don't want to take a Padawan. I know you don't think you should. But there are some Initiates younger than me who'd surely give you something more recent to brood about, if only you'd give them a chance. And Master Windu. May the Force be with you. Though seen mainly at a distance, your scowling mug has been a constant inspiration."

With a skip in his step, he left.

On the other side of the door, Instructor Kali bumped into him, shoved a bag into his arms, said, "May the Force be with you," and continued on his way.

Obi-Wan looked in the bag. Lightsaber components. He put in his backpack, next to Yoda's bag.

The morning air was chill and clean, fresh from filtering. The sunrise was pink. And though they'd agreed not to see each other after dinner the night before, his friends were gathered at the launch pad.

Minus Garen, who was off on his first mission.

Reeft bowed, perhaps made awkward by the fact that he'd been chosen by Master Binn Ibbes. Bant hugged him, which reassured Reeft that hugging was alright. Once that was over, Komari put him in headlock and tousled his head.

Then she gave him a bag, pulled him from the others a little, and spoke quietly. "There's parts and plans for two lightsabers in there. One is very typical, the other, it's a little more modern in design, a techie friend and I worked on it together, we haven't actually gotten to test one out yet. The first time you turn it on, do it from a distance, maybe. Just be safe, alright?

"Thanks," he said. "I'll be careful." He put it in his backpack with the others, having to tug the zipper hard to get his backpack closed.

Siri was last. Her hug was tight enough to hurt, and it was obvious to Obi-Wan that she was putting effort into not crying. She whispered. "You're going to be the best Medical Corp Jedi ever," she said.

"Oh, I don't know. A lot of people who enter the Service Corps leave after a few years. So I've been thinking about what else I might do with my life. And it occurred to me. It might be fun to take the galaxy over."

With an enigmatic smile, Obi-Wan Kenobi left the Jedi Temple.

:::

Some sources suggest that Jedi make their lightsabers as Initiates, in "The Gathering." Others suggest that Initiates have training lightsabers, which are incapable of cutting, and don't get real lightsabers until they become Padawans.

That makes a lot more sense to me; if an eleven or twelve year-old is going to carry a deadly weapon, that kid should at least be under adult supervision. After waffling a bit, I'm going with that.

Monstrosity, by JLL. It's available on Amazon books for just 99 cents. It's good. Vampires and werewolves and stuff.

This chapter is short. Perhaps the last chapter should've been longer. Ah well.


	8. Chapter 8: Be a Body

**Chapter 8: Be a Body**

Sara slipped on a puddle of blood and called for a custodial droid to clean it up.

Unfortunately, they were all busy mopping blood in other places.

She set her foot solidly in the puddle, since it was where she had to stand, reached into the wound, found the blood vessel, and clamped it.

There had been an explosion downtown, and the injured were coming in by the speeder load. Her hospital didn't have enough staff. But they'd do what they could.

The patient's heartbeat was slowing. Losing too much blood. Even as she tended him, she was calling for help, calling for an IV, hardly to be heard over all the Doctors calling for the same. And it wouldn't be a young, junior Doctor such as herself who was listened to.

She wondered how this patient had made it through triage even as she fought desperately to save him.

And suddenly, the heartbeat strengthened. An older woman with gray hair in a bun reached into the wound, with a single swipe grabbed the artery Sarah hadn't been able to catch hold of, and applied the clamp.

The unknown woman moved on. Sarah was too busy to see to where.

When she had the patient stabilized, in noticeably better condition that she'd have guessed he would be in, all the vitals signs unexpectedly strong, she turned to find the next patient.

A boy with reddish-brown hair was sitting cross legged on a mat in the middle of the operating theater.

She took a step forward and opened her mouth to yell.

Doctor Synth grabbed her shoulder. "He can sit wherever he damn well likes. He's stabilizing and treating for shock."

"Stabilizing who?"

"Everyone. Don't distract him. Jedi."

The word was explanation enough.

The gray-haired woman was seeing to a patient, as was a teenage Zeltron girl in similar clothing.

Sarah found another patient. There wasn't any lack.

#

#

After a bruising twenty hour shift, there was nothing like crashing for six hours on a cot, crawling out, downing two pastries and a pot of caf and starting another shift.

When Sarah stepped into the ICU, the Jedi boy was just where he'd been when she'd seen him last. She hadn't been very aware of time during the emergency, but if he hadn't left and come back, he must've been sitting in that spot for at least ten hours. Maybe closer to fifteen.

Keeping an eye on him, she went about the room, checking on all the patients, finding them all in decent condition. She poke to the nurse, who said they were going to be moving some of them out of the ICU soon.

She could've slept longer after all. She might even go home.

She looked again at the boy on the boy on the ground. "Excuse me. Are you alright? Jedi Boy?"

"He's concentrating. Don't distract him."

Sarah turned. The Zeltron girl. From the state of her hair, Sarah guessed she'd recently woken as well. Sarah had heard her name when the older Jedi had shouted an order at her, but she hadn't bothered to remember it.

"I'm Andi. I'll take over in a little, but Obi-Wan is better at area buffing than I am, so he's trying to get everyone in a good state before his shift is over."

Andi stepped over to a sleeping woman whose left lung had been punctured, and ran her hands up and down her body.

Sarah said, "What are you doing?"

"Speeding up mitosis. Reducing inflammation. Imparting energy, some directly, most through increasing ATP efficiency. Improving cellular uptake of vitamins and minerals. Phosphorous, for this one. She has far too many hydrogen ions floating through her blood, raising the pH, so I'm finding electrons and pairing them to the hydrogen atoms. Managing the nervous system to manage pain and reduce stress."

Oh. Sarah said, "One of my professors at school had worked with a Jedi Healer several times. She'd said that if we ever worked with a Jedi, we, should remember that Jedi are imperfect and not infrequently wrong and that we are perfectly entitled to disagree with them over medical procedures, just as with any other Doctor. But she told us that if the Jedi wanted to do something strange which seemed to have nothing to do with healing at all, we should just go with it. Because the Jedi can do impossible things in ways that don't make any sense."

"Yes," said Andi.

"But everything you just said made sense. Not how you're doing it, but what you're doing. Except, what do you mean by imparting energy directly rather than through ATP? And why are his phosphorous levels low?"

In contrast to the cellular manipulations, Andi's explanation of 'imparting energy directly' was mystical and incomprehensible. The phrases 'life energy,' 'the Force,' and 'spirit' kept coming up. It sounded like a scam for credulous sorts, except Andi wasn't selling anything.

"Anyway," said Andi, "You might have more luck asking Obi-Wan about that. He's very into Force theory, and directly supplying energy through the Force is ninety percent of what he's been doing for the past twelve hours. He's very good at it. Speaking of which. Obi. It's been twelve hours. Let's hand off."

The girl sat directly in front of him, close enough his knees touched her back. She closed her eyes, and the room changed.

Calmer. Safer. Filled with a sound Sarah couldn't make out. Didn't think was real. It was somewhat like music. It was somewhat like standing a field of plants growing so quickly you could hear the crackle.

Obi-Wan stood, and the feeling faded, but did not leave. Now that she was paying attention to it, she realized the feeling had been there since the boy had first sat down.

He stretched so deeply his elbows touched his toes, straightened, raised his left foot so it the heel touched the back of his head, then the same for his right foot. He opened his eyes, smiled at Sarah, and said, "Where might I wash up? And is there anything to eat?"

#

#

Back at the Temple, as he'd gone deeper into his medical studies, Obi-Wan had been increasingly surprised that Force Healing wasn't a larger part of the standard curriculum. After four months as a trainee in the Medical Corp, it made no sense to him. Jedi Masters had castigated him for mentioning rifles and armor, saying the order shouldn't be 'militarized,' but none of them saw any problem with spending thousands of hours teaching kids to fight with lightsabers, and dozens of hours teaching them to heal.

Standard training for Initiates included whole classes devoted to throwing things with the Force. First Aid had been a _workshop series._

It came back to the Jedi Order's chief malaise. Which wasn't the Code. Obi-Wan had become a believer in the Jedi Code. Maybe not the Analectic and the Iuriprudentia, but he increasingly thought of the Creed as the most perfect thing in the whole of the Jedi Order. Funny, considering how skeptical he'd been about a couple years ago. But it was all true. _There is no emotion. There is peace._ That was true. Emotion was a fiction which lost its power when you saw through it. Which he didn't yet do very well. But he'd had glimpses.

No. The real malaise of the Jedi was the attitude that whatever would happen without intervention was meant to happen, and what was meant to happen should happen, so you shouldn't intervene.

If missions weren't a tradition of the Jedi Order, he didn't think they'd go on any. And it wasn't a tradition to invest a great deal of time teaching young Jedi Force Healing. And if you had to make a change, it probably wasn't the will of the Force.

The sanctification of institutional inertia. He'd read that phrase once, and he'd taken a shine to it.

He'd spoken to Yoda in his last transmission about placing more emphasis on Force Healing. Yoda had listened-he always did. And Yoda had produced a long, carefully thought out list of pros and cons that led one to the conclusion that it was better to wait and see. Which was also what Yoda always did.

Yoda was wise and kind and good. But he was a committee all on his own.

Obi-Wan was aware that a 13 year-old with strong opinions about how a key galactic institution should be reformed was probably wrong. And he knew most Jedi would have to invest a lot more time in training than he had in order to reach the same level of skill in Force Healing that he had. And he understood that the Jedi who hadn't gotten his lightsaber around in time to deflect the blaster bolt was the most useless Jedi Healer of all. Dead men dressed no wounds.

But still. He was learning to control his own body at the cellular level. He was in communication with his own mitochondria. He was using the Force to improve the efficiency of his own mitosis, decreasing errors in DNA transcription and slowing the shortening of his telomeres.

Not by much. That was true. But he was getting better at it. He liked the idea of living to be two-hundred. So he directed the conversation with Doctor Sarah Gugbee to cellular biology. He certainly didn't yet know as much about conventional medicine as she did, and while his education should include all the information that hers did, the points of emphasis between Force Healers and conventional doctors were different.

But eventually, as all conversations did, this one turned back to Jedi and the Force.

"It sounds like metaphysics," she said.

"It is metaphysics," said Obi-Wan. "No one has succeeded in describing the Force mathematically, and brilliant minds have been trying for millennia. No one has detected the energy except by its effects. Though there are biological symptoms, no biological cause has been found. And it seems to stand in open defiance of conservation laws." He shrugged. "Anyway, I've just spent twelve hours doing an area control meditation, and I at least am not removed from the law of conservation of energy."

Just a little insulated from it.

Obi-Wan said, "If you want a crash course on Force Theory, ask me after I've slept." He brought up a less mentally intensive topic. "How did all those people get injured?"  
"You don't know?"

He shook his head. "We felt the disturbance, and Master Dorla took us to the closest hospital to it. We jumped right in when we got here."

"There was an explosion downtown. Not far from the Governor's Mansion. Rebel terrorists, probably, but you'd have to check the news.

"Rebels?" He knew, of course, but he was still collecting impressions.

"They say they're trying to restore democracy to Galidraan, and it's true that with the way the rules are now, we're not as democratic as we used to be, and I don't like Governor Sindar, but we are still a democracy. Those terrorists are mostly just violent ethnic extremists making up excuses for their hate."

Obi-Wan nodded. He'd heard that before.

Sarah said, "I don't think they'd be such a problem if it weren't for the Mandalorians."

That gained Obi-Wan's full attention. Over the millennia, the Jedi had had many enemies. The Sith were enemy number one. The Mandalorians were second. A distant second, yes, but far ahead of third. The Jedi hadn't had a genuine war with them in a thousand years. Since before the Ruusan Reformation. But unlike the Sith, the Mandalorians still existed and were still dangerous, working as mercenaries, bounty hunters, and pirates, and every once in a while, a Jedi fell to them.

Obi-Wan said, "Mandalorians? I hadn't heard that."

"I don't know if it's true, really, but I've heard rumors about it. That the terrorists hired them somehow. My friend Josephine swears that her cousin saw one of the attacks, and the attackers were wearing Mandalorian armor."

"Hopefully just a rumor," said Obi-Wan. It probably wasn't true. Just a wild rumor. Nothing worth worrying about.

But it was certainly going in his report.

Panic rustled through the hospital. Obi-Wan stood, reaching for his lightsaber... but no, it wasn't that kind of panic.

He made his excuses to Sarah and made for the lobby, where the panic, awe and flurried activity was coming from.

There was a crowd forming, Doctors, nurses and visitors standing on tip-toe to see over each others' heads.

Obi-Wan reduced his weight to 15 kilos and stepped onto the shallow ornamental lip of a pillar, holding onto the corner of the pillar with one hand, head just above the crowd.

Guards around a scrawny gray-haired man in purple robes, several reporters in tow. The gray-haired man was greeting two aging, officious Doctors, and Master Dorla.

Governor Sindar.

Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this.

#

#

Old Ben hadn't been involved in the Battle of Galidraan, but he'd read about in detail. Debacles of that magnitude were always much studied.

In basic structure, it bore a certain resemblance to the Clone Wars. The Jedi had acted too militantly, and had been manipulated by a democratically elected leader eager to turn himself into a dictator. He assumed it's example had helped Dooku plan the Clone Wars.

It was time to start giving Obi-Wan visions. If only he could figure out how.

:::

I've been unable to find the Governor's name. Was he just always called "Governor?" Or did I miss his name? If he does have a name, I'd love to know it.

Monstrosity! by JLL. Available on for just 99 cents.

If I understood wikipedia right, everything Sarah understood a moden earth doctor would understand too. And it would make sense.

Remember. In my personal canonverse, midichlorians either don't exist or are a side effect of Force sensitivity. Not the cause. The Force is mystical.

Just because Obi-Wan thinks something doesn't mean dear writer agrees.


	9. Chapter 9: Source

Ch 9: Source

Obi-Wan stood in the yard at 2 in the morning, lightsaber ignited, running through Katas.

Obi-Wan knew from Komari that the Jedi Order turned a very blind eye to intimate relations between Jedi Knights, so long as said Knights did not allow it to interfere with their duties in any way and gave no outward sign that they were anything but good friends, to the extent that their Padawans, if they had such, assumed them to be good friends.

The policy being that, so long as the Jedi Order came first, second and third, the council didn't ask and you didn't tell.

Komari also said that the Jedi Order did _not_ turn a blind eye to intimate relations between Padawans. Especially not when one of the Padawans was 13. And the Jedi didn't do _flings._ Or _drama_. Or _dating_. Not even unofficially. Either you were committed to a lifelong clandestine relationship which would forever damage your standing in the eyes of those who knew of but did not acknowledge it, or you weren't.

Then again, he wasn't a Padawan. And the Medical Service wasn't really part of the Jedi Order. Or it was, but not in the same way as the Knights. And Andi was very beautiful, and only two and a half years older. She was a Zeltron. She had _pheromones_. And she was physically affectionate, like all Zeltrons. And Zeltrons were famous for their high libidos. It was probably causing her stress.

Puberty had hit harder than Obi-Wan had expected, and Andi's presence doubled the impact. He wished she'd stop slinging her arm around him so casually, but not as much as he wished she'd do it more.

When such thoughts kept him up at 2 in the morning, he found somewhere to do Katas. In the yard, since they'd moved to their current location.

He finished his warm-up and activated the remotes. Four of them, rising through the air, turned to their highest setting, shooting blaster bolts so low powered they hardly stung.

The goal was to not be stung at all.

Obi-Wan did it with his eyes closed, lightsaber whirring, deflecting more than dodging, moved only by the guidance of the Force.

Katas and blaster deflection were all he could work on lightsaber wise, so work on them he did. He didn't have as much time for them as he'd had at the Temple, but he thought he was improving at them. Everything else that had to do with a lightsaber though... hopefully he wasn't backsliding too much.

He wished he had a fifth remote.

After ten minutes, he got his first sting, and he called the remotes off, breathing heavily. Ten minutes of constant movement at near full speed was a lot, even for a Jedi.

He sat on the back porch, listening to bugs and passing speeders, staring at the stars; Galidraan was lightly populated, and even in the Capital the light pollution was not so very bad.

A dim shape passed high overhead, nearly invisible against the night-sky. He wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't sensed it.

A ship with all lights off.

He jumped on the roof of the house they were staying in, ran across a few more one story houses, to a two story house, then to the three story civic building that was the highest building on the block.

He extended his right arm, straight as he could make it, pointing at the distant ship.

The ship continued on, and his arm lowered, lowered, at first because the ship was traveling across the dome of the sky, marked at a lower point on the dome without losing any height, but finally it began to descend.

The ship disappeared into the inscrutable blackness of the unlit planet.

His arm pointed where it had landed, his stiff body a human protractor. He knew the angle between his shoulder and where the ship had landed within a few degrees. It was a right triangle, so that gave him all three angles. And he had the length of one side-the height of his shoulder plus the height of the building plus the elevation it was built on, and those last two could be checked on a city map.

A bit of math and he'd know how far from where he was to the landing. The city map would also give him his location. And the stars told him what direction he faced. So he knew where the triangle pointed.

He ran into back to their house, looked up the needed factoids on the holonet, did a bit of math, referred to a topographical map, looking up the radius of Galidraan, taking the planet's curvature into account, and had himself a rough estimate of where the dark ship had landed.

The dark ship had landed in the boonies. Hick country. Where the colonist who'd been invited in order to make Galidraan a little less sparsely populated lived. A result that was not disproved by the distance to horizon.

Smuggling, most likely.

This was also going in his report.

#

#

"Obi. Obi. Wake up. What time did you go to bed last night?"

A mass hit his side. Hard enough to be uncomfortable, but not hard enough to hurt. Obi-Wan guessed she'd kicked him.

Obi-Wan said, "You'll be pleased to know that you're currently reminding me overwhelmingly of an 11 year-old girl."

"I'm young at heart. Get up."

"Thanks for waking me Andi. I'll get up as soon as you leave the room. I can't guarantee my state of decency under the sheets."  
"Fine. But if you're not out of this room in ten minutes I'm coming in here with a spray bottle."

Obi-Wan was out in two. There was caf in the kitchen, and maybe he preferred the taste of tea, but on a morning like this the strong kick of a caf was enough to make one contemplate the concept of divine beings.

True, he could bind his own adenosine receptors to receive the same stimulating effect, but he'd need half an hour of meditation to manage it and would give himself a headache by messing up on his first try.

Master Dorla could manage that stuff easy as blinking, but that was why she was a Master Healer and he was a trainee healer. But even Master Dorla drank caf sometimes, if only for the taste.

"Pancakes?" said Obi-Wan.

Andi said, "Not today. There's bread in the pantry."  
He started the caf and got out eggs.

"You don't have time for that," said Andi.

"They'll cook quickly. Master Dorla's meditating?" He started eggs and toast as he spoke.

"Beneath the flowering tree. We've got hospital rounds again today. Cancer, exotic flus, whatever they're having trouble with."

"Delightful."  
"It's the job. Stop pining for the Temple."

"Just because I use Katas and deflection practice to stay in shape doesn't mean I'm pining for the Temple."

"You don't do it because you imagine yourself being in a battle one day?"

"The non-trivial chance that it'll one day save my life is worth thinking about, but I'm quite happy to be here."

"Then what's wrong with hospital rounds?"

Obi-Wan said, "I like wounds. Wounds are fine. Very clean, just blood mostly. Cancer's alright. But flus? No. I don't like the puss-filled sores flu, do you think it'll be pus filled sores flu again?"

"Csillian Flu. Probably. Toast's up."

He buttered his toast, poured his caf, and flipped his eggs.

Obi-Wan had imagined the Medical Corp traveling around in large groups to disaster areas. He'd imagined he'd get very used to setting up the field hospital. From what Master Healer Dorla said, that happened. But it wasn't the best place to start a newbie. Most ailments could be solved by traditional medicine, with the Force only quickening it slightly. But some were impossible with conventional techniques, but easily accomplished with the Force. Medical Corp Jedi were scattered across the galaxy to see to such maladies. And to help wherever they could.

On Galidraan, it was Master Dorla and her two proteges.

Obi-wan scarfed his breakfast, made his ablutions in the bathroom, and Master Dorla met them at the speeder.

At the hospital, Master Dorla handed Obi-Wan and Andi off to Doctor Synth, who led them to a familiar ward, one they had to put special booties and masks on to enter. The Csillian Flu ward. The outbreak had peaked, but there were still plenty who had it, and while it wasn't an especially contagious disease, it was important to be careful.

The sores especially were dangerous.

Obi-Wan sat next to a dark-skinned human male on the far side of middle age, black hair turning silver. He was unconscious, lost in a fever dream, a red and white sore swollen on his forearm.

Obi-Wan put his fingers to it, very lightly, deadening the man's pain. With a patient before him, all childish thoughts of disgust were vanished. He began to meditate.

He found the virus particles. He did not destroy them-Master Dorla could do it that way, but Obi-Wan couldn't destroy them as quickly as they made new ones and he'd damage nearby cells in the process.

Instead, he helped the immune system recognize the infected cells and identify the appropriate antibodies for the virus. Then he juiced the immune system with sheer energy, helping the appropriate cells replicate faster. He improved vital signs, and helped clear out the liver, which was very important with Csillian Flu.

He did the same with the next patient, and the next, as he did so, working with Andi to do something much harder to define than mere cellular manipulation.

They turned the ward into a place of a healing. A place where life would flourish, but not viruses or harmful bacteria of fungi. Only wholesome life.

And how could you scientifically define 'wholesome?' It was seen, mostly, in the smiles of the who were conscious, and the peaceful rest of those who weren't.

After four hours of that, their shift ended, and they meditated as they went through the hospital's decontamination protocol, and decided on lunch in the hospital's cafe, which was surprisingly okay so long as you don't care about eating healthy.

Halfway through lunch, Andi's comm beeped.

Obi-Wan said, "What is it?"

"I've got a two hour personal with Master Dorla. You're on free time, then we switch."

"Free time," said Obi-Wan, knowing what that meant. He could do whatever he wanted, so long as what he wanted was to work on his correspondence class.

Andi jammed a couple fritts in her mouth and took off, leaving Obi-Wan to continue devouring the fried goods in more desultory fashion.

As he ate, he listened.

Sports. Patients. Absent Doctors. Politics, briefly, the election approaching. A man saying he wouldn't vote because his vote didn't matter.

"Every vote counts," said another.

When Obi-Wan turned 20, assuming he was still a member of the Jedi Order, he'd able to start voting in Coruscanti elections. He was looking forward to it, though whether Jedi should vote was an old debate. Certainly, if they did vote, it was agreed that they should keep how they'd voted to themselves.

The naysayer said, "I'm in District 7, so my vote literally doesn't count."

The other frowned, and took a moment for the implication to percolate through Obi-Wan's mind. When it had, he turned, facing the two, and called out. "Excuse me. Yes, you, excuse me. Does Galidraan do winner take all?"

The naysayer said, "Yeah. Whoever wins a district gets all the votes."

"Huh." He assumed Yoda could look up Galidraan's laws just fine from the comfort of Coruscant, but perhaps he should take an interest anyway.

"You should still vote. It's not like it takes long," said the positive one.

"Not long? I waited in line for five hours last time I voted."

The surprised the other one, and they marveled a little that wait times were so different at different precincts, and it wasn't till the political portion of the conversation had ended that Obi-Wan left the cafe.

Instead of going to his spot in the lobby, Obi-Wan found a console and looked up Galidraan's laws.

Or tried to.

All laws were publicly available. But in order to view them, you had to sign in with your citizen ID. Public life ought to be kept public, went the reasoning.

Reading between the lines in news reports, (delivered by only two major services) a picture started to emerge.

Increasingly onerous voter registration laws. More and more crimes that could result in a loss of voting rights, New laws against 'incitement to riot,' an overstressed court system with a high conviction rate, and a police force with little transparency and many blasters.

Voters were divided into districts, and districts into precincts. The Governor controlled the committees that controlled the drawing of both. The Governor controlled the committees that handled staffing for the precinct polls, thereby controlling how long the lines were in different precincts, giving him a handle on turnout.

The people voted, and the votes were counted, and no fraudulent ballots were added. But calling it 'democracy' was a joke.

What a jokester, Governor Sindar was. A real comedian. Making the joke funnier with every law.

Andi touched his shoulder. "Obi. Obi. It's your turn with Master Dorla. Didn't you check your comm? She's in room 303."

He smiled, thanked her, and walked quickly toward room 303.

This was also going in his report.


	10. Chapter 10: Scout

**Ch 10: Scout**

Komari sat with Yoda in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, surrounded by small plants and pools of water, watching Yoda float.

She'd come to show the Grandmaster Obi-Wan's gravity technique, which she'd gotten comfortable with, and the Grandmaster's ears had pulled back slightly in surprise. Then he'd nodded, meditated, and, still meditating, pushed off on the floor, and started floating.

No, not quite floating. He was falling. Very slowly. Much more slowly than Komari had. She could feel the Force coming off him in waves, could feel the Grandmaster's intense concentration.

Finally, he settled on the ground, gentle as a feather on a low gravity world.

Yoda opened his eyes. "An old technique, gravity manipulation is. Many years of study, it requires. Such intense focus it needs that practical to use in missions situations, it seldom is. Years of study, it did not require of you."

"No..."

"Use it in mission situations, could you?"

"I don't see why not." She'd already used it against training droids and in two separate spars.

"Using, you are, Obi-Wan's Force Cycling Technique. Easier, it makes all things?"

"I'm using it, but Force Jumping, enhanced speed and strength, telekinesis, battle precognition-those aren't any easier than before except that I feel a little stronger, a little closer to the Living Force, though not any further from the Unifying Force. The technique..." 'Obi-Wan's Force Cycling Technique' was a bit of a mouthful. "The main advantage of Force Cycling is increased self-knowledge. An improved ability to passively observe your thoughts and emotions."

"Hmm." said Yoda. "Seen before this technique, have you?" And Yoda stepped off the stone onto water. Walked on the water of the thrush filled pool. Not holding himself up with the Force. Not self-levitation. Rather, he'd sent the Force into the water, and the water was acting like a slightly squishy surface. He was even using his gimer stick.

"No," said Komari. "I've never seen that before." Never even heard of it. If she looked at the water with an electron microscope, she would surely find a strange molecular behavior going on, but through the Force, it felt only as if the water liked Yoda and was doing him a favor.

Yoda said, "Study the Water Walking technique, you will. Depend on the relationship between the water and oneself, it does. Confirm or deny a theory of mine, your success or failure will."

Komari sent the Force into the water, trying to copy what Yoda had done. She stepped off the bank and got her boot very wet.

#

#

Obi-Wan spent the first hour of his day off answering messages. Siri had been officially chosen by Master Adi Gallia, and Yoda had told her she couldn't study 'Kenobi Force Cycling' until later, and even then only with her master's agreement. Bant had not yet been selected, but she had been speaking lately with Master Tahl, who was blind, but Bant wrote that it hardly mattered.

Obi-Wan supposed being blind would be like spending your whole life doing the blindfold test. You'd get scary good at it eventually.

They both wrote mostly about other things, no doubt hoping not to hurt his feelings, but Obi-Wan hardly cared.

Komari was connecting to the Force purely with his method now, and claimed that doing so had strengthened her connection to the Living Force. She also wrote that Yoda knew Gravity Manipulation, and wrote about the 'Water Walking' technique Yoda had her learning. Obi-Wan resolved to give it a try. He wrote similar replies to them all, closing with an exhortation to study Force Healing and get control of their own aging.

Obi-Wan didn't like aging.

There was a general message to all members of the Medical Corp. The famous medical researcher Jenna Zan Arbor was looking for a Jedi volunteer to help her study how the Force might be systematically used for healing by non-Jedi, and Obi-Wan put in a request for further information.

Messages sent, he packed a lunch, put on a helmet and goggles, and chose between his lightsabers.

He wanted very much to like the experimental saber, from Komari, but it felt strange in his hand, and, more practically, it took a minute of being on for the hilt to become so hot that it glowed cherry red. Almost against his will, his favorite was the lightsaber from Yoda, which was simple, old-fashioned, parred down, the essence of a lightsaber, with no extra bells or whistles. He hung it from his belt, and tossed the standard saber from Komari in his bag. Just in case.

Then he hopped on the swoop bike he'd managed to borrow from one of the Doctors and set off.

You were supposed to be at least 16 and have a license to drive a swoop, but Jedi, even Jedi Healers, had a brand of diplomatic immunity that largely allowed them to ignore such laws.

Taking advantage of that needlessly was impolite, but the dark ship was an itch on his mind, so he was checking it out.

He broke from the main road onto a narrow dirt track surrounded by massive trees that met overhead, forming a tunnel of silver bark and purple leaves.

He pressed the accelerator down, depending on the Force to warn him of turns before he reached them, and was thankful for the goggles when a bug splattered against the left lens.

It took little time to reach the area. Even with Galidra's high elevation and Galidraan's large volume, the horizon, and so, the edge of his view, had not been so very distant.

Unfortunately, the area he had to search was large, a consequence of his rough methodology.

He passed over streams and hills, searching for places with good views, pushing the swoop as high as it would go. He broke from the path, slowed to his own running speed as he wove over brush and between trees, and found a ragged trail. He followed the trail for a full minute before realizing it was what he'd been looking for.

Snapped branches and footprints beaten into the dirt. A thin path made wide and long by heavy and recent trampling.

He followed it and found a clearing with scorches from a ship's landing. He could see the marks from the landing struts and the ramp.

He turned around, following the path about two miles in the opposite direction, the trail coming out into a little nook of a valley, hidden from sight by tall trees and hills on the three sides.

At its center, a burned out settlement, circled by low walls of blackened rubble.

He stretched out with the Force, and the only life he felt within was small.

Obi-Wan hid the swoop between two trees and a high bush, drew his lightsaber and his holorecorder, and walked a circuit around the settlement, taking images, noticing as he did that it was hidden from above by the massive, wide-branched trees of Galidraan, and further hidden by small trees and shrubs planted on the roofs, now blackened by fire.

He stepped through one of the breaches in the wall, getting clear images of the many marks left by blaster fire. From the lack of growth and the thin layer of dust and leaves, the fight had not been long ago. The night he'd seen the dark ship, perhaps.

He found dried blood, but the bugs were at it. In a drain, he found a human hand, quickly rotting, still holding a blaster pistol. He found a mess hall, and buildings with small rooms holding burnt beds, each room large enough for an individual, but there were no family units.

He did not find toys or signs of children, or any houses. He found no bodies, and only one datapad, hidden beneath a fallen door, the screen cracked by the heat of the fire.

Less settlement than fort, and the attackers had cleaned up.

He was quiet on his way back, wondering who'd attacked who, and whether he should report it to Galidraanian law enforcement. If it had been the Galidraanian military attacking the colonists who didn't recognize the government, then the conflict was hotter than news reports suggested. Special Ops taking out a rebel forward base.

Back at the house, he spent an hour salvaging information from the cracked datapad, and found it to be full of romance novels. Stern zabraks, winsome twi'leks, daring rescues, and 'burning members.'

He wasn't sure what 'as they kissed, their mouths fought for dominance' meant in a practical sense, but it didn't need to go in his report to Yoda.

Everything else did. Including the only useful information drawn from the datapad. The apparent name of the owner. Joanna Matchley.

#

#

Jango Fett kneeled behind a low shrub, a tree beside him, his purple and gray Mandalorian armor blending into the forest around him, sighting on the rebels through his rifle scope.

The rebels were pointing blasters at each other, arguing over boundaries, Jango guessed, based on the surveying equipment around them. A common sight. The rebels were crazy, violent and disorganized, fond of pointing blasters at each other when they weren't pointing blasters at the government.

Jango was unconcerned by the politics. It was enough to know that the rebels were fighting a duly constituted democratic government and had strange ideas about society and about non-humans. That made Jango and his fellow True Mandalorians the good guys, and Jango would've been satisfied with nothing more than them being honorable bad guys.

'Honorable bad guys at worst' was something like his mercenary company's unofficial motto. After 'don't die' and 'first-time customers pay up front.'

Governor Sindar had paid for the first three months up front. Now additional payments were arriving promptly, on the first every month.

"Ready?" said Jango.

Through the comm, ten snipers sounded off.

"Fire."

Five rebels fell, each struck twice.

:::

I was deeply tempted to make Jango Fett the owner of the datapad. But that would've been a bad joke that made no sense and led nowhere.

Monstrosity, by JLL, available on Amazon, in the books department.

The Battle of Galidraan, as it originally went down, was part of what turned Jango Fett into a remorseless killer for hire with a hard on for Jedi. At this point, Jango Fett is a young man doing his best to live up to his adopted father's legacy of reform and honor.

Some readers know what happened here. For the rest, it's spoilers for the Open Season series.


	11. Chapter 11: Battle

**Ch 11: Battle**

Obi-Wan and Andi sat on a cafe's patio, drinking tea and watching the park across the plaza. Obi-Wan had taken to watching the crowds carefully, searching for the fear and unease that he'd read accompanied a despotic regime, but the inhabitants of the park played freely. Children busy with some game with a ball, adults strolling along the curving, tree-lined path.

But there was something. Something he'd never before felt in his life, yet which seemed supremely familiar. A restlessness, a calm that was pure focused anticipation, the world thin and fragile, growing thinner with every moment, ready to crack.

Obi-wan said, "Andi, do you have your lightsaber?"

"No..." she said.

He pulled a spare from his bag, the one made from the parts from Instructor Kali. "Borrow mine. It cuts."

She looked at him quizzically. Rather than asking, she stretched out her senses into the Force. After a moment, her eyes opened, they exchanged a glance, and she took the lightsaber.

She stood, faced another table, and with a slight edge to her voice, said, "I don't know what's happening, but it would be prudent if you'd all get inside."

The other diners on the patio continued their meals and conversations, unaware that Andi had spoken.

She took a breath, preparing to repeat herself at greater volume, and the street exploded.

#

#

Andi dropped as Obi-Wan turned the table on its end.

A boom so loud it squeezed his chest, followed by a sound he'd never heard yet understood-shrapnel on thick plastic.

A piece of distended metal shot through the table, passed over his head, one of a hail of sudden projectiles shattering the cafe's window. Another drew a small slice on his shoulder.

He didn't notice the screaming.

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and peeked out as two large, open roofed landspeeders roared into the plaza. Each had a small gun turret at front and back and each was filled with about ten soldiers firing at the diners, at the park goers, and anyway and everyone within view.

They wore Mandalorian armor.

Mandalorians. A distant but clear second to the Sith on the Jedi Order's 'historic enemies list.' Unlike the Sith, they were still around, working as pirates, mercenaries and bounty hunters, and the odd Jedi still fell to them as they plied their militant trades.

Eyes closed, Obi-Wan stuck his lightsaber past the edge of the table just as a streak of blaster bolts shot out from the front turret of landspeeder A, passing near the table.

The first bolt struck his lightsaber and deflected into the engine, the contact jiggling his blade into the path of the next bolt, which also deflected into the engine, the third into the back gun turret, the fourth into the front turret, which exploded as the bolt breached the power pack, not killing those aboard, but throwing the gunner back.

The cause of all that shouldn't have been noticed, but he was forced to leap out from behind the table as a flurry of blaster bolts destroyed it, Andi doing the same, her borrowed lightsaber a fierce blue that contrasted with Obi-Wan's gentle green.

Andi blocked a bolt into the ground, and from the way she did it, Obi-Wan understood two facts. First, that Andi had actually lit her practice saber a few times since entering the Medical Corp. And second, that she hadn't done it nearly enough.

Obi-Wan dashed forward, hoping to draw their fire away from Andi and away from the civilians, realizing as he did so that it would kill him. And he had too many vague yet dramatic plans, too many hopes and dreams to die here defending Andi and a few score civilians he'd never met.

But leaving them to die wasn't an option.

He calmed, accepted the situation for what it was, and prepared to do his best. Bunched up as the Mandalorians were, he could sweep through them in an instant if he just got close.

He leapt to the side, flipped back the way he'd come, pushed off against a wall, gravity manipulation giving his jumps strange, unpredictable arcs, dodging more than defending, juking the many rifles aimed at him, doing his best to block the bolts back at the Mandalorians, who, predictably, were not kind enough to stand still and let him, hindered further by their armor, which minimized even his successes.

A blaster bolt struck a Mandalorian in the arm, cracking the armor, drawing a yelp, and some of them turned to open fire on a beat cop who knelt at the corner of an alley pistol in hand. Andi stepped forward, blocking a bolt into a Mandalorian's chest, and Obi-Wan used the combined distraction.

Striking like a serpent, Obi-Wan darted into range, sweeping his lightsaber in a blow that would cut in half two Mandalorians at once.

A vibroblade blocked his lightsaber, and the man's blaster swung toward him. Obi-Wan saw his death, and the man flew through the air to smack into a storefront so hard the plaster cracked, two other armored Mandalorians crashing into it beside him. With a rush of the Force, Landspeeder A flipped into the air, striking two Mandalorians as it spun, scattering the rest.

Obi-Wan knew the source without looking. Master Dorla stood at the end of the plaza, the Force swirling around her, the shriek of sirens rising behind her.

A Mandalorian in front of him, raising his blaster rifle at Master Dorla, who held a practice saber he'd never seen her practice with. Practice sabers could deflect blaster bolts, but how long had it been since she'd done deflection practice. Years? Decades?

Obi-Wan drove his blade through the man's back, the armor offering only brief resistance.

He spun out, raised his lightsaber to block a blaster bolt right into the helmet of another Mandalorian, and the beat cop from earlier stepped back around the corner, pistol firing.

Obi-Wan retreated toward Master Dorla, whose practice saber moved with unerring competency, deflecting bolts into the gun turrets of landspeeder B, the remaining Mandalorians piling into it, keeping up a steady stream of fire as they drove away at full speed, Obi-Wan and Master Dorla busy blocking blaster bolts, Obi-Wan noting that Master Dorla was now deflecting them into the roadway, which, come to think of it, eliminated any chance of accidentally killing civilians as the Mandalorians fled.

When they turned the corner, the world shifted back into a safe place, and Obi-Wan collapsed as he realized it was over and he was alive.

He sprang back to his feet as he registered that there were six Mandalorians still near, none moving, but not necessarily dead.

Master Dorla gestured, and their weapons rose, deposited in a pile as the beat cop came forward, stiff-lipped, clutching his left arm, a bloody mess of fragmented bone and vaporized sinew, an arm which might or might not be salvageable, a life that might not be salvageable if they didn't quickly get the bleeding under control.

"Triage and treat," said Master Dorla, her gesture taking in the plaza.

Andi moved immediately to the soldier, having begun tearing strips off her jacket the instant the landspeeder had gone around the corner. Obi-Wan glanced at the man he'd killed, powered down his lightsaber, saw that Master Dorla was checking on the downed Mandalorians, presumably securing any who were still alive, and threw himself into healing.

He hadn't noticed, during the fight, how many bodies were lying around, nor how many body parts.

He'd hardly knelt by the first patient, a woman with shrapnel in her chest, when the first police speeder arrived. Seconds after it, the first and the third came, some of the officers offering what basic first-aid they could as others secured the scene, followed shortly by two ambulances. Then many more.

Obi-Wan rode one to the hospital.

#

#

Thirty-seven civilians had died, and another was in a coma that would likely prove vegetative even with Master Dorla's help. The beat cop who'd joined the fight would be getting a mechanical arm, and Obi-Wan thought that with his help, the cop's arm could've been saved, but he'd been too busy saving lives.

Four of the six downed Mandalorians had died from the fight, and the other two in custody. Or so Obi-Wan heard upon being woken, after having worked for fifteen hours and collapsed in the hospital's bunk room.

Andi, pale, with circles under her eyes, said, "Master Dorla says to wash your face and pat your hair. We're meeting Governor Sindar."

Obi-Wan did so, blinking at himself in the mirror, thinking that he looked even worse than Andi, and that he hadn't realized he had so many cuts and small abrasions, and he understood now why a nurse had insisted on cleaning him up.

He found Andi and Master Dorla in the lobby, with security guards, a holorecorder crew and Governor Sindar, who looked weaselly even in his finery.

The Governor bounded over to him, security guards and an aide in tow. "And you're Obi-Wan Kenobi? Thanks so much, on behalf of my people, fantastic job you did there, just tremendous." Governor Sindar shook his hand. "Let's take a picture, now, come on." He spoke to his aide. "Against the window, do you think?"

The aide said, "One there, but another where it's clearer you're in a hospital."

"Good, good," said the Governor, continuing to shake Obi-Wan's hand even as he positioned them for a picture. "Heroes, all of you heroes, credits to the Jedi. Smile for the recorder."

Obi-Wan turned his face away, and Master Dorla put her hand over the lens. "Governor Sindar, as I said, the Jedi Order does not permit images. Nor for names to be published."

"I hardly think the Medical Corp needs to worry about going undercover."

"It's a matter of policy," said Master Dorla. Her voice was firm and clipped, and Governor Sindar couldn't meet her gaze for long.

Master Dorla said, "If that's all, my students and I will take our leave."

#

#

As they raced along in their landspeeder, Master Dorla said,"We're changing locations."

In case the Mandalorians wanted revenge? "A safe house from Governor Sindar?" Obi-Wan said.

Master Dorla shook her head. "When we spoke, he was thinking that if we'd died, it would've been easy to get a large group of Knights to come deal with the Mandalorians."

Quotes from the Medical Corp _Co-operation and Politics Guidebook_ ran through Obi-Wan's head.

 _Common decency is uncommon. Don't depend on its presence. Before accepting_ _longterm_ _assistance, be sure that_ _maintaining_ _such assistance suits the assister's agenda. Maintain independence from those playing political games in which you're a piece._

The Knights put out fires, then left to put out other fires. The Service Corps tended to have a longterm presence and economic involvement with governments and institutions. That required a different, arguably more cynical political education. Whole books on functioning through government corruption.

Obi-Wan said, "How did emergency services respond so quickly?" There hadn't even been a minute between when it had started and when he'd heard the sirens. Like they'd known beforehand.

"I commed law enforcement shortly before it started and told them something was about to happen and they should scramble everyone they could. Then I ran for what I perceived as the epicenter."

A premonition of danger clear enough to act upon. He'd known that Master Dorla was powerful in the Force, that she was perhaps the greatest Healer in the Medical Corp, but to him, she'd been the quiet, dull woman who taught him about Force Healing and otherwise left him to his own devices so long as he kept up with his course work.

A Jedi Master, but Jedi with an asterisk, and only a training saber. A failed Initiate who'd made something of herself, her high position in the Medical Corp poor consolation prize for not getting to be a _real_ Jedi, a Knight.

Now he'd seen her throw a landspeeder through the air, and there were Masters on the council who couldn't do that. Training saber or no, she was a Jedi Master. Full stop, no asterisk needed, and Jedi Masters were to be reckoned with.

He felt her senses spread as they approached the house, examining it and the neighborhood for danger, finding none. The pulled against the curb and she said, "Pack everything. We'll be in and out inside seven minutes."

They ran inside, and Obi-Wan went straight to his room. His possessions had proliferated since entering the Medical Corp, taking advantage of the larger allowance that came along with having fewer goods provided free for his use.

Datapads, datachips, headphones, his remotes, two boxes of tea, toiletries, charts drawn on flimsiplast, lightsabers and extra clothing. He didn't so much pack as dump, half-filling a duffle in addition to his full backpack, dashing into Andi's room to help her, as she'd accumulated more in her years in the Medical Corp. The two of them ran back out to the landspeeder, where Master Dorla was already waiting despite having had more to pack than the both of them put together. She'd even cleaned out the kitchen.

"How?" said Obi-Wan.

"We spoke on the first day about a plan for being in and out quickly."

Once Andi jumped in, the landspeeder shot off, going down small streets and alleys, taking circuitous routes that would lose any follower, halting briefly beneath a large tree to throw the open-air landspeeder's top up, hopefully losing aerial watchers in the process.

She drove them to a small, empty house that had a wall and five security droids. Obi-Wan had no idea how and when she'd arranged such, but clearly he had a lot more to learn from her than he'd realized.

As they stepped into the living room, Obi-Wan said, "If you're this concerned, why aren't we going off planet."

"There's only one space-port on Galidraan. It is slow, and bookings are logged and poorly secured. Help me set up the inter-galactic comm."

That mostly consisted of plugging it in and watching Master Dorla set the cipher.

He was surprised when a hologram of Yoda himself appeared as soon as they'd connected to the Jedi Temple, looking at them all carefully-at the holograms of them on his own side, rather, but the effect was the same.

"Sensed, Padawan Komari Vosa did, that in battle, Trainee Healer Kenobi was," said Yoda.

"As were myself and Trainee Healer Andi Rench," said Master Dorla.

"News reports from Galidraan, I have seen. Mentioned, Jedi presence was. Describe to me this battle in detail, you will."

Master Dorla went first, then Andi, then Obi-Wan, who hesitated slightly when it came to his kill. "I should've cut off his arm instead."  
"Perhaps," said Master Yoda, "but in a desperate battle for life, wise it is not to leave a wounded enemy at one's back. Meditate upon your action, you must. Brood upon it, you must not."

When Obi-Wan's report was concluded, Master Dorla asked if they were to stay on Galidraan.

"Hushed though they have been, the first strike from these Mandalorians, this is not. Requests from Governor Sindar, we have had, to deal with them. An issue at council, this has been. A decision made tomorrow, there will be. If sent, a taskforce is, support it you may."

Master Dorla said, "I would not normally use a 13-year-old and a sixteen-year-old as war medics."

"Less than a war, this will be, if sent, the taskforce is. But your choice it is."

When the call had ended, Obi-Wan told Master Dorla that he would like to see the situation through.

Master Dorla frowned, and Andi asked Obi-Wan if she could practice with his remotes.

Master Dorla went out, and Andi started blaster deflection practice, using her practice saber. Her fitness was better than he'd realized, and he'd known she went for runs. Body control extending to the cellular level could help with that. Her strength and skill in the Force had surely improved substantially since she'd been an Initiate. Still, her movements were awkward from lack of practice.

Obi-Wan checked the comm, seeing a message from Komari which read only, _"Are you alive and uninjured?"_

That was strange, once he thought about it. That Komari had felt him halfway across the galaxy.

He knelt in meditation, the matter one not so much of spreading his senses wide as taking a wide view. He found the galactic core, then Coruscant, home to thousands of Jedi and two trillion sentients, shining like a beacon even through the fog of distance.

Of all the Jedi on Coruscant, only was distinct to him, like a single white flame amid a fire of white. A flame that was somehow closer than the rest. Komari.

The Force cared about distance, but its view of distance couldn't be measured in meters and lightyears. It was more about the _significance_ of what was in between, and not necessarily what was _physically_ in between. So it was only slightly odd to Obi-Wan that though Komari was clearly on Coruscant, she wasn't nearly so distant as the rest of it.

He reached out to her.

#

#

Komari was walking on water when she felt Obi-Wan's presence.

Rather than losing focus in her surprise and plunging involuntarily into the water, she prioritized figuring out why she could feel Obi-Wan again, took all her attention from Water Walking, and allowed herself to fall into the water, floating peacefully, falling immediately into a light trance.

The same effect, but dignified.

Unlike when she'd felt his presence before, he wasn't in immediate danger of dying. There were no words, but simply his presence, if in less detail than she'd been used to when they'd met face to face.

Enough to know that he was fine, if shaken, and still very far away, presumably on Galidraan. And play-acting that he felt cocky about having reached her from across the galaxy.

:::

To be clear, Andi and Master Dorla are OCs. I plan to write this story mainly with canon characters, but having some number of OCs is inevitable, considering the storyline. As with Komari, lesser known characters may be centered.

However, pretty much every significant canonical character who is currently out of the picture will eventually come back into it in non-trivial ways.

Monstrosity, by JLL, available on Amazon books.


	12. Chapter 12: Strange Worries

**Ch 12**

After an hour of using her practice saber to go through blaster deflection drills with the remotes, Andi asked if she could borrow one of Obi-Wan's spare lightsabers.

He took out the one he'd loaned her earlier, but did not proffer it. She rolled her eyes, pulled it to her hands with the Force, switched it on, lowered the power to fifty percent, and went through a practice Kata.

"I'm not used to this much gyroscopic cant," said Andi.

"It doesn't have much, especially with the power down."

"Still more than a training saber."

"You're plenty strong enough to control it even with the power at full."

Andi said, "Perhaps I should just keep using a practice saber. I volunteered for the Medical Corp because I couldn't see myself fighting."

"You didn't age out?"

"No. Maybe joining the Medical Corp early was a way of making it my choice when I realized I might not be picked as a Padawan. But still, I might have been. Being in the Medical Corp is my choice. But it can't hurt to practice with remotes. It's good exercise, like you said."

"Yeah."

"Master Dorla's been in fights. She's told me. Mostly in dangerous places. Civil wars and the like. Not random terrorist attacks like this. But you know, she still only has a practice saber. I asked her why once and she said, 'First, do no harm.'"

Obi-Wan said, "Four Mandalorians died during the fight. She got two of them." With Force pushes. He'd killed another, which left one more, dead to blaster fire. Whether it had been the cop or one of the Jedi deflecting blaster bolts, Obi-Wan didn't know.

Andi said, "I know. But still, it's a statement of intention. A practice saber is a protection, not a weapon."

"You can aim the deflected blaster bolts. It's the same."

Andi said, "If a practice lightsaber and a standard lightsaber are the same, why do you think she's silly for carrying a practice saber?"

"Not the _same_ exactly. I'm just saying that they're both weapons. A standard lightsaber is a better one."

"Better for killing and dismembering. Not better if you'd rather not do that."

Obi-Wan said, "Not any worse either. If you turn the power down enough a standard lightsaber is just like a practice saber."

"The fact that it's made for beheading people is meaningful, independent of whether you use it so or not."

Obi-Wan said, "Do you know I used to have this exact same argument with Masters at the Temple? I wanted Jedi to carry rifles and wear armor. Depending on the mission."

"That's crazy; it sounds like something you would do. I'd wondered why you weren't chosen."

"You think I shouldn't have thought that about rifles and armor?"

"Maybe, but what's crazy is arguing with Masters."

"It should be a free exchange of ideas, everyone arguing as equals on the open plain of rhetoric."

Andi said, "Sure, Obi. That's just what a bunch of middle-aged Masters who've been on hundred of missions and in hundreds of dangerous fights want. A twelve-year-old arguing as an equal about combat tactics and the galactic perception of Jedi."

Obi-Wan frowned, bothered by how good of a point that was, and Andi activated three of the remotes.

Her movements were pure Shii-Cho, quickly adjusting to the saber. She couldn't build new skills in a single day, but it was plenty of time to shake a lot of rust off of old ones. And to adjust at least a little to being stronger in the Force since the last time she'd done saber practice, not to mention taller.

They moved on to a light spar, careful not to damage walls in the confined space of the living room, and Obi-Wan was pushing her defense as far as they could go but no further when Dorla returned, bearing take-out for their meal, enough groceries to feed them for a week, bedding, and a sixth security droid.

Obi-Wan wondered how she was getting them. They were legal on the planet, but Obi-Wan's understood that there was a long, arduous and expensive permitting process.

He asked over dinner, and her only answer was a long look indicating that thirteen-year-olds didn't need to know such things. "Have you meditated upon the fight yet?"

"No," they both admitted.

"Don't let it fester."

After dinner, she took him aside. He and Master Dorla sat cross-legged in her room. She was silent and still, but did not meditate, only looked at him, prepared to listen.

Several times, he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, till after past ten minutes, words escaped.

"Had you killed before?" Obi-Wan said.

"I have made medical mistakes that led to the deaths of patients who would've lived if I'd made the right decision. And I have helped those who had no chance to live end their lives peacefully, without pain. But if you mean killing in combat, then yes, twice before. I have at times been sent to where a Healer who can take care of herself might be needed. Though not with two children in tow. Most Medical Corp members go their whole lives without knowing combat. I had hoped it would be thus for you and Andi."

"And, when you killed, you were okay after?"

"I was not unaffected, but nor was I traumatized."

'Not traumatized.' That sounded like a reachable goal. "Do you think he was a good person at all?"

"What is a good person?" said Master Dorla.

Being good. Making the galaxy a better place by being in it? Being kind to those you knew? Being kind to those you didn't? He didn't know.

Dorla said, "Obi-Wan, why do we kill?"

Such questions had seemed very simple before he'd decided it would safer for someone to not exist, and then actualized that decision. Jedi killed to prevent the killing of others, and took the freedom of those who took others' freedom. It made no sense, but he couldn't imagine what else they could do.

If it was just a numbers game, then if two people tried to kill a single innocent child, it would be wrong to defend the child with lethal force. So It wasn't just a numbers game. He could say "we kill when it's necessary," but so soon as he thought the word necessary, unjust calculations popped into his head.

Obi-Wan said, "Killing is never justice. But sometimes it's less unjust than what would happen if we didn't kill. Killing someone trying to kill me and innocent others-it's fair, in a way. But him trying to kill those people isn't fair at all."

"Think on it more," said Master Dorla. "When it happened, how did you feel?"

Obi-Wan told her he'd felt nothing but urgency at the time, and even now he was numb to it, not filled with any particular emotion he could name, but exposed, raw, as if he had lost his skin, lost the layer of himself that insulated his inner workings from the world.

She listened more than she spoke, and when he'd talked himself dry, she sent him to meditate as she spoke to Andi.

In meditation, he recalled the moment. Then imagined the man beneath the mask. A hardened killer, motivated by money or ideology. Yet kind to his wife and children. Or, maybe, a wife-beater and child abuser. No way for Obi-Wan to know.

A man whose future had likely held more senseless murder. Or, maybe, just possibly, redemption and heroism. A possibility extinguished by Obi-Wan's blade.

He focused on the memory, examining it through the Force, and with a strange twist and turn, saw it from third-person.

He watched the whole battle, or skirmish rather, which couldn't have lasted more than half a minute. Less even. He saw his own face as he struck the fatal blow, his expression intense, focused, a hint of controlled fear, but neither angry nor hateful. The same expression he'd worn the rest of the fight.

In killing the man, there was a loss of positive potential, but also a loss of negative potential. The situation suggested that the lost negative potential was much greater, but there was no way for him to be sure of that.

A lethal strike, he decided, had been better than the other option, going easy on someone who twenty seconds before had been shooting indiscriminately at civilians, and was even then shooting at people protecting those civilians. Animals were most dangerous when wounded, the saying went, and people were animals, after all.

It would be easy to be proud that he'd killed 'one of the bad guys,' but that wasn't the right way either. It was what it was, the right yet tragic choice, and if he found himself in the same situation again, he'd make the same choice, and he wouldn't feel caviler about it, but it wouldn't traumatize him either.

He moved into the sort of meditation Master Dorla had taught him, sensing his own body with the Force. Though he was doing it with his own twist, of course, sensing his body from both his perspective and the Force's perspective, the two merging into one view.

Proteins, lipids, water and honeycombed calcium. Surreal, that such a strange and squishy construct bore what it bore and shaped what it shaped.

By the time Andi touched his shoulder, he'd mostly healed the cuts he'd acquired from flying fragments of stone and brick. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw that she held her bedding in her arms.

"Want to sleep in the living room tonight?" she said.

He nodded, understanding that she didn't want to be alone.

He took his shower before checking that all the doors and windows were locked, laying out his bedding a few feet from hers, and turning out the lights. He settled into his bedding and closed his eyes.

From somewhere in the house, there was a soft whine, quieter than Andi's breathing, audible only in the pause between inhalation and exhalation. It lulled him to sleep.

#

#

Old Ben had been nearly frantic when Obi-Wan had, apparently without realizing it, used a technique identical to or very similar to what Old Ben had used when the Force had giggled and the timelines had split and Old Ben had turned into a spirit. He'd wondered for a wild moment if there would be a third timeline, one containing an Obi-Wan Kenobi with the Force connection of three Obi-Wan Kenobis and two Obi-Wan Kenobi Force ghosts following him around.

He'd briefly imagined an infinite recursion as progressively more ridiculously talented Obi-Wan Kenobis used the technique to reflect on a progressively stranger fight.

Fortunately, the technique had worked just like it was supposed to. Obi-Wan had viewed a memory through the Force, without even the slightest hint of time travel being possible. No snowballing of souls whatsoever.

Dying had given Old Ben strange worries. Including Obi-Wan's dislike of aging. It wasn't proper for a Jedi to use the Force to disrupt the natural harmonies.

True, Jedi typically aged a tad slower than non-Jedi, a benefit of using the Force, but it was small. Old Ben had aged a little faster than non-Jedi, thanks to same of his early failed experiments in shielding his Force presence from Sidious and Vader. He'd temporarily cut himself off from the Force a few times, and each time had been hard on his body.

Old Ben hoped that those bad experiences, a connection between aging and a profound loss of the Force, unnatural even to non-sensitives, was the inherited trauma motivating Obi-Wan's dislike of age. The other option was that Obi-Wan couldn't accept his own death.

Or worse, and more likely, Obi-Wan couldn't accept weakness.

Though if not for that tick, if not for how obsessively Obi-Wan had trained as an Initiate, and how hard he'd worked to keep it up since, he likely wouldn't have survived the fight.

Old Ben was very much hoping that the Jedi taskforce would arrive soon, and that Obi-Wan's reports would be enough to alter events without any further interference from Old Ben.

He'd caused Obi-Wan to notice the ship, and had nagged at him to investigate it. No visions as yet, but then, Obi-Wan wasn't doing the right sort of meditation to prompt such. He was doing a lot of deep meditation, that was true, but turned internally, examining and adjusting his own body.

Old Ben had never fully appreciated what Force Healers could do, and it had long since occurred to him that Obi-Wan not being selected as a Padawan might've been for the best.

So long as Obi-Wan's occasional mutters about 'conquering the galaxy' didn't turn out to be literal.

#

#

Komari stood in the Council Chambers, so close to Master Dooku that their arms touched. Nearly thirty Jedi were packed in, in addition to the Councilors. Knights, Masters, and Senior Padawans, not a one under twenty, and all of them skilled in combat. She had been part of group missions before, but never one like this.

Master Mace Windu, recently elevated to the head of the Council at quite a young age, addressed them. "The rim planet of Galidraan is being terrorized by Mandalorian warriors."

A murmur swept through the Jedi at that. Not spoken, but felt through the Force.

Mace Windu said, "They're slaughtering political activists, attacking colonists, and launching senseless terrorists attacks in urban areas. Their motivations are unclear. Speculations are that they've either been hired by a player with interest in Galidraan's civil strife, or are avoiding the struggles on Mandalore and seeking to set up shop on Galidraan. The council desires for you to journey to Galidraan, investigate these matters, and, if they are as they seem, take these Mandalorians into custody."

Master Dooku said, "And if taking them into custody proves impossible?"

Master Windu's gaze was firm. "Then you shall do whatever else is required to ensure the safety of Galidraan."

Another murmur of surprise swept through the Force. It was not common for the Jedi to act so militantly. But if it was Mandalorians...

Master Windu said, "Galidraan is sparsely populated. What military they have is small and poorly equipped, not up to the task of dealing with this threat, and they have no allies to call upon. They are depending on the Order in this."

That straightened everyone's backs. The Jedi were peacekeepers, not warriors, but when innocents were attacked by relentless murderers, the roles became much the same.

Master Windu said, "We are placing Master Dooku in charge of this mission."

Master Dooku nodded. That was no surprise.

Yoda spoke, "A source on Galidraan, I have. A planet in accord with all Republic principles, it at first appears. But, if dig deeper you do, my source claims, discover it is a manipulated democracy you will. Bloodier than officially claimed, the split between government and colonists may be. Trust this Governor Sindar, my source does not.

"However, on Galidraan, three Jedi of the Medical Service Corp there are. Caught up in one the atrocities, they were. Survive, they did, and confirm Mandalorians, they did as well. Yet trust Governor Sindar, Master Healer Elwith Dorla does not. Cautious, you must be. Evaluate the validity and import of my source's reports, you must. Take offensive in battle without understanding, you should not."

:::

Thus far, the changes brought about by Obi-Wan/Old Ben are small. They'll stack.

The reference I'm using claims that Mace Windu is a mere 15 years older than Obi-Wan, making him 28 at this time. However, the Jedi Apprentice series has him already heading the council when Obi-Wan is 13, & I think the Mace in TPM looks older than 40. So let's say he's actually about 40 right now, and is closer to 50 during TPM.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch 13:

Komari sat in the main hold of the starship _Wintarr,_ going over the reports again.

The reports had been clearly redacted, apparently to avoid hinting at the main source's identity. It didn't obscure the source's observations of Galidraan very much, and Komari snorted at the concluding of one section. _I am aware th_ _at_ _governments seldom work so well as we might like, but it seems to me that the situation on Galidraan_ _may require some looking into._

Yoda's source certainly had a gift for understatement. And came across as young and naive, yet also thorough and resourceful. Intel was confident that the 'Joanna Matchley' who'd apparently owned the salvaged datapad had been one of the recent colonists to Galidraan. That little venture, colonists killed in a hidden military base near the capital, Galidra, had to be one of the odd factoids making Yoda counsel caution.

How close those Mandalorians had come to killing Kenobi made her less inclined to caution, but letting that impact her, other than as a reminder of the risks of caution, was very unJedi.

Master Qui-Gon took a seat next to her, datapad in hand, and said "You seem pleased."

Did she? "I'm looking forward to checking on Kenobi."

Qui-Gon blinked. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"He's one of the Medical Corp Jedi on Galidraan. From his messages, his studies are going well, though of course not so well as he'd like. I felt him in danger some days ago. That's must've been the battle with Mandalorians. He claims to be alright, but it'll be good to confirm that with my own eyes. Had you not read that part yet, Master?"

"Not yet." He raised his datapad, still in the process.

Komari accepted that. There was over a day yet before their arrival. "It's near the end," she said.

Master Qui-Gon skipped to it, and Komari meditated, practicing the body-examination meditation that Obi-Wan had insisted she work on.

She'd long since learned it, of course, but mastering it to the level needed for healing was giving her fits.

After twenty-some minutes, Qui-Gon broke the silence. "His conduct reads as exemplary, if aggressive. You say you felt him in danger?"

"It was brief, but the Force was clear. I was proud of how calm he was, except for short moments at the beginning and the end. It seems his actions would've done any Padawan proud."

"What's done is done. There's no need to re-litigate his lack of selection."

"I wasn't intending to. But I think you know that if I had been a Knight already, I would've taken him on as my Padawan. If he were a year younger, I'd be impudently nagging the council to let me take the Trials so I could take him on if he had no other options. I saw a great Knight in him. I'm pleased to see evidence that he has the talent and drive to follow two paths at once."

"Perhaps," said Qui-Gon, "but only to an extent. To truly master a subject, one must focus upon it. But it's impressive that you felt his danger from so far away."

Komari said, "He contacted me through the Force the next day. Just to show he was alright." Komari reached out with the Force, her breathing slowing, and did not find Kenobi so hard to find. She felt him notice her attention, and respond in kind.

Komari said, "Kenobi. Kenobi. Do you hear me?" After a long pause, Komari shook her head and said to Master Qui-Gon. "Words are beyond us, it seems."

"We're still many lightyears away." Qui-Gon frowned. Komari saw that the Master was struggling with whether to believe her or not. Few if any Master and Padawan pairs could've managed that.

She said, "Would you like to learn Kenobi's Force Cycling Technique?"

"Kenobi... the way he meditates?" said Qui-Gon.

"It's more than meditation," said Komari.

"I've seen it. It seems dangerous. Rather than centering himself in the Force, he centered the Force around himself."

Komari said, "I'm tempted to say the technique accomplishes both at once, but that's not quite right. To be honest, we don't yet fully understand it, though I am growing closer."

"You've learned it yourself? That's foolish. It may at first be merely of interest, but 'mere interest' in dark techniques has led many astray."

"I am studying it under the supervision of Master Yoda and my own master, neither of whom regard it as a dark technique, only a difficult one."

"Master Dooku is learning it?"

Master Dooku walked in, having apparently heard the end of the conversation. "I'm failing to learn it, as yet. A great deal of ingrained habit must be overcome. I suspect I'm too old to ever become truly comfortable with it. We are more than prepared to forbid Komari from using it if such proves necessary, but thus far it has not. You might give it a try, my old Padawan. I believe it would suit you."

Komari doubted Qui-Gon would. It would mean admitting he should've taken Obi-Wan on.

#

#

Obi-Wan spent four days inside the house, only occasionally going out into the yard, as Master Dorla disapproved of it. That didn't bore him, particularly. He could tolerate weeks of it. But considering recent events, he didn't find it relaxing either.

He meditated, trained with his lightsaber, with Andi and without her. He nagged her into giving his 'weird' meditation another try, and spent more time studying one on one with Master Dorla than he had in weeks.

The news took his attention from the developing routine.

Unconfirmed rumors said that the two captured suspects from the Slight Plaza massacre had been being transported by armored speeder when the speeder had been attacked, the driver and guards killed, the prisoners freed and whisked off.

It felt off. A lot of things felt off. And a Jedi taskforce was coming. Master Dorla had told him so.

Andi and Master Dorla were both in their rooms.

He went into his own, and changed into street clothes that in no way identified him as a Jedi. He grabbed his bag, and, working hard to forget Master Dorla's order to stay inside, left the house, eating up the pavement with quick strides, and sat to wait at the nearest airbus stop.

He'd studied the city map. He knew where the spaceport was.

#

#

Obi-Wan climbed to a high walkway to get a better look around. The main passenger port, all nice and shiny. The larger, industrial complex for freight after it. The stubby area next to it which housed Galidraan's tiny patrol fleet. In the distance, the pre-fabricated hangers that had been dropped with Galidraan's original colonists two centuries ago and had long since been left to decay.

He could wander around it for hours and hours, and Master Dorla kept comming him.

Obi-Wan answered the comm, said, "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry, bye," and turned his comm off. He would be in a lot of trouble later, but that was later. Best to focus on the here and now.

He set off for the military complex. He couldn't go inside, probably, but who knew what a circuit of the fence might reveal to a Jedi? He didn't know what he was looking for, only that something was off, and there had been a spaceship that was connected to what was off, probably, and where would you look for a spaceship other than the spaceport?

He needed half an hour of fast walking to reach the military complex, and its proved to be electrified, with razor wire on top. The guards on the other side looked through him as he walked around it. He saw grass, hangers, a few small ships, one being worked on. A double-line of men and women jogging. One ship landed, and two took off, both headed, as best as he could tell, for space.

Nothing of note. He had thought of sneaking inside, but he was being watched. Not just by the watchers too, but by others he couldn't see. Being watched was a distinctive feeling, and military watchers, he was finding, made him particularly antsy.

He peeled off when he completed the circuit, and headed for the industrial section, the edge of which was just across the street. A lot more was going on there. Lifts. Large machines transporting great quantities of massive boxes. Some of the machines had actual wheels, which was cool. He'd never seen wheels on any sort of vehicle before. Not in person, at least.

But by the time he'd reached the far end of it, he'd had his fill of it, and it was probably more efficient, time wise, to continue on to the old abandoned spaceport anyway, so he did that rather than making the full circuit around the industrial section.

As he approached the abandoned section, the trees grew larger, gnarlier. Grass overgrown, the road rough, little plants expanding cracks in the duracrete.

Obi-Wan was used to old buildings. The Jedi Temple on Coruscant was thousands of years old. When he'd focused, the sense of those many generations had risen like wind from the lower levels.

Next to that, the abandoned hangers were young. But they were neglected, allowed to fall apart, to age into disrepair and senility, having never been designed for the long term in the first place. Gaps showed in the roofs.

The fence around them was new, with new razor wire on top, but that wasn't surprising. They'd have to replace it every now and then, to keep kids out.

Still, his eyes caught on the square of old buildings that had probably been the center of the place in its heyday. Overgrown. Mossy. Holes here and there.

Nothing distinguished it, except the feeling that he was being watched.

#

#

As the Jedi taskforce reverted from hyperspace as near to the planet as hyperspace could take them, they received an urgent message from the Governor. Intelligence services had located the Mandalorians, apparently in the process of preparing for an assault on a town of innocent colonists. The Governor was requesting immediate intervention.

Komari didn't like the sound of that. She knew her master didn't either. Yoda had advised caution and distrust of the Governor, and now the Governor was rushing them into combat. But they couldn't not defend the town.

Accordingly, they re-routed away from the spaceport, their original destination.

:::

I'm struggling mightily to not imagine datapads as iPads. Maybe I just should.

I saw The Last Jedi. There were many booms and bangs and lots of angsty shouting, and I found it very boring. And I thought it made the Original Trilogy futile. And it made Luke lame. And the Force weird and easy. And I thought that Rey was a pretty good main character, and the movie was curiously uninterested in treating her like one.

I'm concerned that they're going to try and do a mirror image of Anakin's arc from the prequels. Kylo Ren is evil for the first two movies, then goes good and saves the Jedi and everyone loves him and he's revealed as the true main character.

Excuse me as I vomit.

But if you liked it, good on you!

Yes, originally, Qui-Gon didn't go to Galidraan. He was going with Obi-Wan on age-appropriate missions instead. Or at least, missions that were supposed to be age-appropriate before they got out of hand. Now, he has no Padawan.

Sorry for the late update. I shouldn't leave it hanging in the middle of an arc.


End file.
